My older sister Jessalynn passed away from an overdose last fall. We both have struggled most of our lives with addiction. She spent many years in prison and when she got out, she lasted a month. We weren’t very close because our addictions and things each other had done had taken its toll, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t love her or that I don’t miss her every day. She was my older sister, a bad ass chick that I looked up to growing up. I find myself questioning often why am I still here but she’s not? It’s not fair. I overdosed several times, yet here I am. I’ll miss my sister forever, but I carry her ashes around my neck daily.