one year ago right now, my sister was driving me home after pippy died

Grief feels so odd. I can never guess how I’m going to respond to anniversaries or remembrances.
It warps time.
I don’t feel at peace with her passing. I don’t think I’ve felt that any this year.
I feel guilt that the tumor pressing into her trachea wasn’t found earlier. I feel guilt that I gave her the medications to treat her pneumonia that her body couldn’t handle. Guilt that I didn’t know as soon as she was too weak to make it up the stairs, so she laid cold in the floor for hours while I slept.
Guilt that I went to work while she was hospitalized. Guilt that I wasn’t beside her every single second.
I don’t know if changing any of that wouldve made anything better.
I don’t feel happiness at having had her like everyone says I should. I feel despair. It all feels wrong. She should be here with me. If I could do it all again I’d do it so much better.

My friend asked me this morning if I was going to her grave today. I realized that would be a normal thing to do, so I did.
It felt morbid, for some reason. Sitting next to her remains to show that I remember what happened today. It made me angry.
I remember her every day. I miss her every day.

I tried to speak out loud to her, the memory of her, and I couldn’t do it. No words would come out. I don’t think any words wouldve felt right.
I love you. I miss you. I wish I could’ve been perfect for you.
That all felt selfish, and I hated myself for thinking them. Like I’m saying “you’re gone, look at me feeling sad and sorry for myself”

I don’t know where I’m going with this. I’ll probably delete it