The Truth About That Summer

epilogue

Dear Casey,

I'm writing today's letter from my new, all-time favorite place yet. I say yet, because they all end up being my favorite places - every single one of them. Shh, don't tell the summer-house. Or Grams cottage.

I see why you and Luke wanted to do this - travel across the country. The places you get to see - especially when we drive at nighttime and the world is mostly asleep - and the people we get to meet... I feel so lucky. Not a word I would've used to describe myself in recent years, I know. But lately...

I feel like I haven't stopped moving in months, but I definitely don't want to stop. It's like I'm not just going through the motions anymore, I'm not always trying to escape them. I'm enjoying them. I'm living them. Feeling them. Everywhere I go is new. Exciting. Different.

It's strange because the places we go... There are no reminders of you in any of them like there are back home. And yet, everything I see reminds me of you. You're nowhere and you're everywhere, so far away but still a part of everything that I do.

It's a bittersweet sort of feeling. Everywhere we go... I can't help but think how much you'd love it, too. Daisy chases a seagull or a squirrel, I catch the perfect wave with Luke wading in the water behind me, I catch a stupid song lyric mid-song, or watch Luke search the towns for their most random food-spot... and I still catch myself looking for you. Looking for you so we can make eye contact and laugh at the world around us, together. Like an inside joke of ours with no words.

I don't know if I'll ever stop looking. As your younger sister, as someone who never lived in a world without you in it before the accident, I think it might be ingrained into the very fibers of my being, a piece woven into the fabric of my soul - wherever I am, I expect you to be there, too. I look for you. Always. Forever. It's what I do.

After all, didn't you promise me you'd always be there?

I know, that sounds angry. I was for awhile. Okay. More than awhile. I was angry for a long, long time. I blamed you for a long time, too, and in some moments when I miss you so much it seems like I've run out of air, I still do. But most days, more often than not, I just miss you.

It's not a raw, crippling wound - missing you. Not anymore. Now, it's a steady ache, a constant tender spot inside. Still all the time - just not so life-sucking.

I remember Luke told me we don't ever stop feeling sad, we just begin to feel other things, too. I think he's right. Because I miss you everyday, but I also laugh everyday, too. My heart smiles again - when I'm running with Daisy, or hugging Luke. Talking to Brynn and Grams on FaceTime. The other day when Dad said "Love ya, kiddo," before he hung up, so casually. When we call Finn and he tells us stories.

But another change: my heart gets happy when I think of you now, too. Everywhere we go, I find things you'd love. Things you'd hate. I want to show you them, but I can't. So I create a list in my head to share with you someday. Or to write in my letters. Which brings me to today's list.

We finally made it to California, Case. Luke and I - we did it. We're spending some more time here than anywhere else. It's how we originally planned it and I'm glad - we love it here. You'd love it here.

So far, here are the things you'd love the most:

1.) The ocean. That speaks for itself, I guess. But you drive down the coast, and the wind blows in your hair and it has that beach smell, the one we love that reminds us of summer, and there's just so much beach, Casey. Nothing like the summer house, with the small private beach. Isn't it weird how the ocean looks different in different places? So dark and menacing in some, so pretty, light blue in others? How the sand feels different? Sometimes, I swear the ocean feels different.
One thing I've noticed though, is that no matter what, the water is where I feel you the most. Especially during early mornings on my board. Watching the sky changing colors. Sometimes I swear if I take my eyes off the sunrise and look over my shoulder, I'll find you there, sitting on a board beside Luke. You feel that close. I don't know how it's possible to feel so close to you and still miss you so much it aches at the same time. But I always do. And the ocean, as it always has been, is our place.