“But, to be honest, the most immediate part of me has no idea it’s been so long since she died. The most immediate, accessible part of me—the me in my center, the fundamental me that hasn’t been touched by time—every day, every minute, learns and relearns over and over that she is gone. That is why I am so grateful for this group. The people in this room come from all over— different hometowns, different families, different identities. But we all share one fact in common: here, we are free to release the constant need to make other people comfortable with our pain. We can stop pretending it gets better, because it doesn’t. That doesn’t mean time doesn’t change things, not at all. It doesn’t mean I haven’t had a full life. But what it does mean is this: even though it’s been so many years, I still lose my sister every single day.”

To hear him talk about his loss in such an open, raw way was unlike anything Lily had ever known. Like it wasn’t a sore to be hidden, something that made him wounded, weak, less than. Like loss didn’t have to be lonely.

“Would I rather have her back instead? Of course. But I don’t have that kind of power. The power I do have, however, is this. Standing here with you all, telling my story. Hoping that maybe just one of you will feel seen for the first time since you lost someone, that you will come back and sit with us. It’s not much, but it’s all I’ve got. And I find myself on this day, all these years after the worst day of my life, grateful for it.”

The crowd clapped, and Lily stayed perfectly still, both sad and happy, and warm all over. She couldn’t remember the last time she let herself feel the contentment in sadness. She never let her own sadness bloom enough to produce that particular fruit. For a few minutes, she stayed there, her back against the warm brick, her eyes closed, and let herself feel it.

Then the church door groaned, and her eyes snapped open. The chattering women walking out went silent when they saw her. Lily reached for her hat, grateful for what she had, just moments ago, felt embarrassed by. But it didn’t matter; it was too late.

Theirs was a small town, and she was the Lily Thompson.