This is what I say to Sara when I think of her, which is often. In another week it will have been 52 weeks since she passed.
I'm afraid I don't have much to say still. I'm still not ready for anything approaching communal grieving, but at least I can talk to her friends and family on rare occasion without a total collapse. There are still things I must do for her. More donations, more jewelry to post for sale, her cookbook to preserve, her mother's pastel to hang, and making sure her sister has copies of all her digital works.
It's coming, it's coming.