Losing a sister is a reality that you really don't want to accept and that you fairly consciously try to avoid and cover up in your mind as not having happened. You really only glance at this reality with a sideways look and hardly ever stare right in the face because that would be too shocking. I only think of my sister Marianne as being alive and animated and talking and that is how she lives on. I choose not to think of her in any other way. She IS my sister. It is not, she WAS my sister.
I don't think of her in an after life after death. She goes on living right here and now because I keep her alive and well through my words and my thoughts and my actions. I have no plans to stop doing that because I am perfectly comfortable with it and have very pleasant feelings when I do. Genetically, siblings are closer related than any other people on earth so I figure a big part of her is in me also. The things I do for me, I do for her. Whatever she didn't get to do, I do for both of us.
I have never had this feeling with anyone who died who was close to me before so it must be because she is my sibling that I feel this. I think it must also be because we were very close in our early childhood that this is so. We have a very common past and I think we are going into a very common future. I feel that she is very close to me and that I am looking at the world through her eyes also.
I hope this doesn't spook you. It is out of a feeling of pure unadulterated love for her that I speak.
On the journey to nowhere in particular at all, there are many stations and some of them you know about because you planned them on your schedule, but many of them you don't know about ahead of time. That's a good thing too because otherwise you would stay in the waiting room and never get aboard the train. The frightening ones are the ones you learn a lot from, though, and remember, that what doesn´t kill you makes you stronger.