my sister ....

many things lately have been reminding me of my her... i was cleaning out my garage the other day and i found some old poems she had written. she was such a talented writer and a musician and such a free-spirit. she shaved her head in 8th grade and didn't care what anyone else thought. she had her own unique style. one time we were going somewhere and she asked me if her outfit matched. i emphatically said YES! and she said ok....i'm changing. LOL! she and i were very different. it has been 8 years now and i don't think of her with sadness every day. i try to focus on the happy memories, but sometimes i really miss my sister. i miss my sister when i see other people with their sisters. i miss my sister when i play with my nephew and niece and think of what an awesome aunt she would have been to chloe. i miss my sister at weddings when i think of my own wedding some day and that she won't be there. but thoughts of her do not always make me sad. i think of what an amazing person she was. i think of her confidence and her stubborness and her passion for life. i see bits and pieces of her in chloe and i love it. she will forever be in my heart and memories.

someone gave me this poem shortly after the funeral and it has always stuck with me. sometimes you don't know what to say. sometimes what you say is the wrong thing. sometimes it's better not to say anything at all.... altho it is written from a parents perspective i think it applies to all forms of loss.

Please
(by Rita Moran)

PLEASE, don't ask me if I'm over it yet. I'll never be over it.
PLEASE, don't tell me she's in a better place. She isn't here with me.
PLEASE, don't say at least she isn't suffering. I haven't come to terms with why she had to suffer at all.
PLEASE, don't tell me you know how I feel, unless you have lost a child.
PLEASE, don't ask me if I feel better. Bereavement isn't a condition that clears up.
PLEASE, don't tell me at least you had her for so many years. What year would you choose for your child to die?
PLEASE, don't tell me God never gives us more than we can bear.
PLEASE, just say you are sorry.
PLEASE, just say you remember my child, if you do.

PLEASE, just let me talk about my child.

PLEASE, mention my child's name.
PLEASE, just let me cry.