She sat with her back against her headboard, away from the window. The various cards from teachers, friends and family spread out in front of her. Each one wished her internal happiness, condolences and the word she had grown too used to in the last few days: sympathy. Sorry.

I am so sorry to hear of your loss...

My prayers and thoughts are with you and your family...

I know you feel like... but...

Words. Just words. They all meant well, and she knew it. But what were these words supposed to do, other than remind her of the loss of her hero, her mentor? What words were there to describe the death of the head of your family?

Why were the words so persistant, when she just wanted to forget? Just wanted to be able to go numb and not feel anything.

She sighed and stretched, kicking the cards over the side of her bed and onto her messy, teenaged bedroom floor. Closing her eyes, she wondered what it was like, dying.

"You were in so much pain" she whispered to no one. "I wish I could have made it better for you while you were here... I'm so sorry". She reached up and wiped the tears from her eyes.

A knock at her door didn't surprise her, and her sister poked her head through. "We're opening presents, sis. Dad wants everyone in the den."

She nodded and her sister pulled the door closed as she left.

I hope my presence will be enough to satisfy everyone. Not feeling much like celebrating Christmas this year, she pulled her robe around her and started down the hall. Why didn't they just cancel it this year?

She first noticed her mother's usual spot on the recliner, vaccant.  The sniffles of her aunt, her mother's sisters drew her gaze to where the rest of the family sat, all with red eyes and weak smiles.

Despite the enormous loss that hovered over them, they had each other. They were together. And at least for now, that was more than enough.