Today would have been my little sister’s birthday. She’d have been 37. She died a little over 3 years ago. I guess it gets easier with time….I don’t know, really, if it does or not. Maybe somedays yes, somedays no. It seems so strange. I miss her a lot, but I miss the person she was before the mental illness took over. She was – different. She was smart…genius, really. Amazing. She had the greatest sense of humor; twisted, maybe, but hilarious. She was a great animal lover, like myself. Except she always was out rescueing the ones that she figured no one else wanted…the three legged dogs and paraplegic cats, one-eyed rats. She loved her kids, especially her first born…I think that’s because that one came along when my sister was still, well, herself. If you’ve never loved someone with a mental illness, well, you just don’t get it I guess. For that part of her, I’m glad she got to leave this planet. She was so miserable at the end. But I never thought it would be the end. We all prayed for healing…but we meant… here. Guess she had to go to Heaven for her healing. Not fair for those of us left here without her. I feel guilty for all the childhood years that I was angry at her for being born. (because she took my ‘place’ as the baby of the family. my parents didn’t do a good job of ‘integration’ I guess…) We talked about it as adults; I know she forgave me. But still. It sucks.
Happy birthday, sis. I miss you so much. See ya on the other side.