Monday
morning, June 29th, 2015
the oldest of us had a heart attack a day after surgery and she did not survive.
Mary was a born again Christian and she found love, family, comfort and joy within
her church. She left this world knowing she was loved by the family she
created.
Mary
didn’t have a lot in the way of material possessions. She had a couple of dogs
whom she adored, a few good friends, a few pieces of furniture and a firm
belief she knew where she was going when she died. I think if you could ask her
she would say she died rich.
One
of my sisters commented that when you lose a sibling, your world shifts and it
does. Any of us could be angry with the other, gripe and complain but no one else was
granted the same privilege. We loved and fought with each other through childhood,
teen years, adulthood. No one else knows your history like a sister.
My oldest sister is gone. We didn't always get along but I miss her. It didn't matter if we talked, I knew where she was, I knew she was in this world, I knew she was there. Now she is not.
One
of my sisters pointed out we all need to make an effort to stay in touch, to
take the time to be sisters. We live different lives but she is right, we need
to make the effort. As she noted, there were five of us, now there are four.
There will never be five again.
Four daughters. Four adults. Four sisters. Pat. Carol. Liz. Cathy.
Good bye Mary. We loved you.
