I am the youngest of three sisters. A few years ago, my oldest sister died of cancer. The time of her illness was taxing for many reasons, one of which was the traveling required near and far to help care for her. When I was deep inside it, this period felt like an endless, fathomless expanse of push and pull, of never quite being where I was. My mind and heart were half at home and half with her, whichever place I happened, physically, to be. And then it ended, as illusions of endlessness often do, and we tumbled, as a family, into the truly endless and fathomless landscape of grief. …