My sister is dying. This diary was going to be about her- our relationship- and how her death is uniting a family torn apart over three years ago.
But these past few days has brought up a topic of a conversation I remember having many years ago. It is one that I wished I had had with my sister. Something for all to think about.
It was 'Picture day' at my preschool. The kids were excited- some were cautious, so this year the photographer offered the teachers individual portraits. The idea was that if the kids saw how easy it was, there wouldn't be many problems.
But there was a problem. You see, I hated having my picture took.
I was sharing this bit of information with everyone I met that day- seemingly thinking that the more I said the words, the less likely I would be feeling them- when one of the parents stopped me in my tracks.
"That's what my mother always said" she told me. "And now she's gone, and I don't have any pictures of her."
I had my picture taken that day- and every time afterward. As much as I still hate the camera, I hate the thought of my loved ones not having any pictures of me when I am gone.
I don't have any pictures of my sister other than three family portraits. One when we were kids, one as teens and one taken about ten years ago. And I never realized it until I started looking through the albums- wanting to pull out the memories and display them, to have her right in front of me. There were none to be found.
There were a number of group shots where the grainy figure off to the side might be her. But nothing to visually remind me of who she was.
The snapshots are in my mind.
My sister is a Rush-loving, Beck worshiper FOX watcher republican who was brainwashed into thinking that if you did not agree with her, you were the enemy. Her political ramblings tore apart my family three years ago. I stopped talking to her altogether because she just couldn't be my sister, she always had to be my political foe. I was furious, but never blamed my sister. I blame the brainwashers.
The week before Thanksgiving I visited my sister in the hospital and have been at her side on and off since. Saturday we had a wonderful day- all of us sisters were together, along with her daughter and a few nieces. We laughed, shared stories and comforted each other.
My sister has donated her body to science. As opinionated as she can be on many subjects, nothing got her riled up as much as the cost people pay for the dead. "Five thousand dollars for a box that goes into the ground? How gullible can people get"
I just smiled remembering that quote. How gullible indeed.
I just wish I had a picture of her.