It is with the deepest grief and pain I have ever felt that I share the heartbreaking news that my beloved sister, Elizabeth McCarthy, has passed from this life. There are moments in life when words seem so small—when they tremble under the weight of sorrow—and this is one of those moments.

It is with the deepest grief and pain I have ever felt that I share the heartbreaking news that my beloved sister, Elizabeth McCarthy, has passed from this life. There are moments in life when words seem so small—when they tremble under the weight of sorrow—and this is one of those moments. I find myself searching for the right words to do justice to the love I have for her, the bond we shared, and the immense loss I now feel. But even in this struggle for language, I find comfort in knowing that Elizabeth already knew my heart. She always did.

In her final days, I had the profound honor of being by her side. I spoke to her, even when she could no longer respond. I held her hand through the days and the long, silent nights. I prayed, whispered stories, reminded her of all the moments we had shared—the laughter, the adventures, the childhood memories, and the quiet times of just being together. I reminded her how deeply she was loved, not just by me, but by everyone who had the privilege of knowing her.

Elizabeth was the kind of person who left a lasting impression on anyone she met. She had a warmth that radiated from within, a laugh that could lift your spirits, and a strength that often went unseen but was unshakable. She was thoughtful and fiercely loyal. She was the first to show up in a time of need, the one who would stay late to make sure you were okay, and the one who always remembered your birthday, no matter how busy life got. Her love was constant, quiet, and mighty.

Saying goodbye to her feels impossible. I held her as she took her last breaths. I felt her spirit slip from this world to the next, and in that sacred, devastating moment, a piece of my own heart went with her. The silence that followed was the loudest I’ve ever heard. It was the kind of silence that screamed with memories, with all the words left unsaid, with the finality of a goodbye that came far too soon.

Yet, amidst the pain, there is also gratitude—immense, overwhelming gratitude. I am grateful for every day we had together, for every conversation, every hug, every laugh, and even every argument that now seems so small in the face of her absence. I am grateful that I could be there for her at the end, to give her the love and comfort she gave so freely throughout her life. I am grateful that I could tell her, one last time, how much I loved her.

The world feels dimmer without her in it. Everything looks the same, but nothing feels the same. I know the days ahead will be hard. The grief comes in waves—sometimes a slow ache, sometimes a sharp, crashing sorrow. But I also know that Elizabeth would want me to keep going. She would want all of us who loved her to live fully, to carry her memory forward in how we treat others, in how we love, in how we persevere.

To those who knew and loved Elizabeth: please remember her not only in her final moments, but in the beautiful way she lived. Remember her smile. Remember how she made you feel seen and valued. Remember the light she brought into your life. Speak her name. Share your stories. Keep her alive in your hearts.

And to my dearest sister: I will carry you with me always. You were my sister, my friend, my anchor. I don’t know how to do this life without you, but I promise I will try to honor you in everything I do. I love you more than words will ever be able to say.

Rest peacefully, Elizabeth. Until we meet again.