Ambush

Dear Sister,

It has been way too long since I wrote to you.  Please don't think that it is because I have forgotten.  I think of you every day.  I still see things every day that remind me of you - fleeting moments that make me smile - a butterfly winging its way on some unknown errand, a pot of herbs sending off its amazing bouquet of fragrance - and every time I sit down for a cup of tea.  I feel close to you at those moments, and very comforted.

Every once in a while, though, I get ambushed.  It happened again today.  It was one of those "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day" days.  The kind where it is 90 degrees and the central air still isn't working, the lawnmower blade broke halfway through mowing the lawn, and of all the sacks of groceries I was bringing in, I managed to drop the one with the apples and tomatoes.  After whining to God - audibly because I am home alone with the dog (she went into the other room) - I sat down and had a good cry.  It was supposed to be a "nothing is going right" cry.  It turned into a "I miss my sister so much" cry.  Not sure where it came from.

So here I sit...looking at old photographs and using up the box of tissues.  I know you would tell me you are happy in Heaven.  I know you would tell me they have terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad days in Australia.  I know somehow when we got done talking I would wipe my eyes, and blow my nose and get on with my life.  I may wallow in self-pity for a few more minutes.  Then the dishes have to be done, the laundry folded and life in general must go on.  I only wish while it was going on we could have one more cup of tea together.  I really miss you.

Save a seat for me at Jesus' feet....
Your little sister

On Moving to Australia

Dear Sister,

My car broke down today.  I was on my way to an early morning appointment when lights started to flash that shouldn't flash, and gauges read numbers that are not good.  It's OK...I called AAA and was towed to the shop, and I am happily on my way (in my inlaw's van).

But still, it made me think of you.  Sitting in the car, listening to the sleet hit the metal roof (yep...nasty weather, too) I wanted to pick up the phone and dial your number.  You would answer, and I would say, "I am moving to Australia!"  You would respond by telling me that they have "Terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days in Australia, too!" and then we would talk until the tow truck arrived.  I would pour out my frustrations to you, and you would listen without trying to fix anything; just listen.  I miss that.

It is amazing how the ordinary things seem to amplify your absence.  I bought some herbs for cooking at the store today...will herbs always remind me of you?  Will I ever listen to frogs croaking and not reach for my phone (I removed the frog ringtone from your number)?  Is there going to be a time when I can picnic by the lake without feeling like something is missing?

I think that rather than mope around for the afternoon, I should be constructive...but first I think I will have a cup of tea and a good cry!  After that I promise not to whine anymore.  I know you wouldn't want me rolling in self pity unless you could be here to enjoy it with me.

I love...I miss you...Tell Jesus I said thanks for everything!

Your Little (slightly mopy) Sister!

Frogs and Spring

Dear Sister,

I heard the frogs croaking last night.  They have been out for a while, now, and every time I hear them I think of you.  Your tree frog summer was a precious gift.  Nature, it seems, loved you as much as you loved it.  I still have the pictures you took of your little green friends...they are a comfort to me when I miss you.

The frogs reminded me of the new life that awakens in the spring.  Perhaps it is appropriate that was on the front edge of spring that you made your transformation as well.  New life is springing up all around us (the crocuses in the back yard have made their appearance just this weekend).

As each new bud and flower emerge, I will see you in it.  As the creatures of summer awaken from their slumber I will remember you, too.  I really do believe that Heaven is in a state of perpetual spring.  No other season would do.  Spring is all about new life; renewal, promise and hope; excitement and anticipation.

I know you are enjoying your new home.  Just remember that those of us here in the old home miss you and look forward to our eventual reunion.

Tell the grandparents I love them.  Kiss my baby for me.

Your little sister 
.

Sisters

Dear Sister,

It has now been a week since you left the earth to be with Jesus.  We had no unfinished business, so I am not starting this blog to tell you all you mean to me.  I hope you already know that.  Instead, I write this to help me to adjust to your absence, and to celebrate the 48 years we had together.  Even if no one else in the world reads this, it will be a blessing to me to remember all you were...all you are.

It occurred to me several days ago that I am now the only sister left in our family (on earth).  It is a strange feeling.  Perhaps I can better understand now those 6 years you had with three brothers and no sister; and better appreciate how my unexpected arrival on the scene changed your life.  You always said you rescued me from being thrown in the lake by our brothers (they wanted another boy) when I was born.  I hope their attitude has changed now (don't worry, I have since achieved the ability to swim and am quite buoyant).

We went out to dinner the night before our Wisconsin brother left for home.  It felt weird.  Always before you and I have gravitated to one another; that night the boys sat together.  I sat with your family, but you weren't there.  It made me sad.  Don't get me wrong, you know I love the kids and my favorite brother in law.  Still, there was a empty spot for an extra chair; it was yours.

I have come to the determination that the sister relationship is unique.  It can't be duplicated and I would never try.  There is something that is born in sharing a childhood bed at night (even if you did crack your toes) and growing up together.  You taught me so much during those early years; tying my shoes, reading, writing my name in cursive (my kindergarten teacher resented that, I think), putting on makeup...the list goes on.  What a blessing it is to have someone you are totally and completely as ease with; no facade necessary.  I am going to miss that.

When you were diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, I determined to spend time with you; move back to our hometown and spend those last months building more memories to treasure.  Who could have known that those last months would turn into four beautiful years?  During that time you have taught me so much  more; the importance of hope, the essence of faith, the value to pouring yourself into others regardless of your own circumstances.  Our trips to the CTCA are treasured moments...and all the happy detours we took along the way.

God has a way of weaving the happy and the sad memories together in a tapestry of beauty.  The contrast of light and dark give the picture depth and life.  We can't have one without the other; you taught me that.

I love you; I miss you; but I would never wish you back.  Give Daddy a kiss for me.

Your little sister