Thought you'd wanna know...
This is Austin, Texas...but it's gonna be Klamath Falls, Oregon in about 24 hours, because I have to go home to bury my sister. It's not the sort of autumn homecoming I was hoping for, compounded by the fact we can only afford one ticket, so Sarah's not coming.
There are so many stories of my sister I could tell you, many of which I will likely recall when I eulogize her later this coming week. (Dammit! I'm only 41! I'm not old enough to have spoken over two dead siblings!) Anyhoo...she was as natural and sweet a soul, as you'd ever want to meet; kind to a fault and so eager to please those about whom she cared.
We think our siblings will be around until we are all old and gray, so young we all are. (I include myself, because 41's not that old!) If they go before those golden years--for whatever reason--we are left with feelings of obvious sadness and bereavement. We are also left with this huge gap in our lives, like a pothole in our journey of life that we drive over frequently. It jars us to the reality that our sibling lives on only in our memories, and that the corporeal being is unfairly no more. When my brother, Scott, died five years ago, I told myself that all the loss he'd felt in his life could no longer touch him. It didn't hurt to be Scott anymore. So, too, with Junior (Stacy). The last ten years of her life were wracked with such pain and remorse and unnecessary self-recrimination. That can't hurt her now. It doesn't hurt to be Junior anymore, and if there's a great celestial reunion that succeeds this existance, I'm sure the first person to greet her was the father who died three weeks after her birth, then by the grandparents who help her keep his memory alive.
Now my mother is left with me. Our older sister, Kelly, has more or less divorced herself from the family. (The reasons for that still mystify me, but it wasn't my decision.) I don't know what I can do for Mom, but I'm going to Chiloquin to find out. My beloved fellow Oregonian abroad will remain in Texas, as will most of my heart and soul. My task isn't an easy one: Gluing and papier-macheing my family back together, but I know Sarah's in my corner. If you have thoughts of kindness, I ask you to offer them to the Great Beyond for Junior. My love to you all.
There are so many stories of my sister I could tell you, many of which I will likely recall when I eulogize her later this coming week. (Dammit! I'm only 41! I'm not old enough to have spoken over two dead siblings!) Anyhoo...she was as natural and sweet a soul, as you'd ever want to meet; kind to a fault and so eager to please those about whom she cared.
We think our siblings will be around until we are all old and gray, so young we all are. (I include myself, because 41's not that old!) If they go before those golden years--for whatever reason--we are left with feelings of obvious sadness and bereavement. We are also left with this huge gap in our lives, like a pothole in our journey of life that we drive over frequently. It jars us to the reality that our sibling lives on only in our memories, and that the corporeal being is unfairly no more. When my brother, Scott, died five years ago, I told myself that all the loss he'd felt in his life could no longer touch him. It didn't hurt to be Scott anymore. So, too, with Junior (Stacy). The last ten years of her life were wracked with such pain and remorse and unnecessary self-recrimination. That can't hurt her now. It doesn't hurt to be Junior anymore, and if there's a great celestial reunion that succeeds this existance, I'm sure the first person to greet her was the father who died three weeks after her birth, then by the grandparents who help her keep his memory alive.
Now my mother is left with me. Our older sister, Kelly, has more or less divorced herself from the family. (The reasons for that still mystify me, but it wasn't my decision.) I don't know what I can do for Mom, but I'm going to Chiloquin to find out. My beloved fellow Oregonian abroad will remain in Texas, as will most of my heart and soul. My task isn't an easy one: Gluing and papier-macheing my family back together, but I know Sarah's in my corner. If you have thoughts of kindness, I ask you to offer them to the Great Beyond for Junior. My love to you all.