I dare not name a strand after you. There is no honor in profiting from the loss of another warrior.
Instead I tie this strand as my oath to be strong. My oath to carry on. My oath to not give up. To be grateful for every day I am allowed to rise up from my bed each morning. You were denied that right and I promise to never take that for granted again. This is my oath my sweet sister. To face life challenges head on. To survive. To live. To do more than just exist. This fire, this rage, this pain and anger, this energy will be used for good. Something good must come of this. This beautiful rage. Something must.
This is my oath my sweet sister.