Some days it doesn't seem real. It can't be that my sister has passed. It must be that she is still living in the apartment above me. It must be.
I miss the feeling of knowing my sister is here. Miss knowing she will applaud me in all my endeavors. Knowing she will protect me, protect my wife, my kids, my grandkids with a fierce intensity. Knowing she will be the guiding light for her family, their absolute everything, their ballast. Knowing the grateful feeling I have each day for her presence.
Wednesday would have been her 77th birthday. I would have texted her in the very early hours, spoken to her shortly after sunrise and hugged her if she was still up that flight of stairs. This Wednesday there will be a hole, an emptiness in my day. And my heart.
Losing a parent is a simply terrible, gut wrenching experience. Losing a sibling has been, for me, like losing part of myself. Something is missing within me that I absolutely knew would always be there. My balance, the balance of the very universe, is unsure, unsteady.
I know that in the days, the years ahead, my sister will be spoken of endlessly. I know that with as much certainty as I know the rising and setting of the sun. But just for today, just this week, it is not enough. Not nearly enough. I am greedy. I want, I need my sister back.
I dare not end this piece in sad lament. She does not deserve that from me. From any of us. Let me just wish my wonderful sister a happy 77th birthday. I will be coming up shortly to give you that hug.
Beautifully said. And you are right, losing a sibling, particularly a slightly older one is losing the person who knew you, before you knew you. Irreplaceable.
Lovely and sad words.
May they give you comfort.
I am really at a loss for words.