I stare at the keyboard wondering how I can express losing my sister; the sister I didn’t know. My sister, Liz, passed away yesterday, and I was contacted by my aunt to tell me the news. Numb is all I felt; I wasn’t upset, but something was missing. My heart goes out to my nephew and nieces and their children; I could not understand what they are going through as I am numb.
This morning I told my mother about the passing of her first born. She mourns, more than she will ever admit. Tears stream from her eyes and all she say was what a waste, my sister; her daughter would be turning fifty this year. Our mother does not show her feeling to anyone, most of all her children. Since that point, I have to be bewildered with my feelings. Should I be crying or mourning the loss of an unknown sister?
I recount when I meet her throughout my years. Meeting her for the first time when I was three years old after my father took my other sister and me away from our mother. It is blurry what was happening; I was at my gran’s house, and there was Liz with my nephew in her arms. I can’t remember if they explained who she was, but I knew she was family. It wasn’t for another seventeen years before I meet her again.
After prompting from my elder brother, I meet Liz and my nephew and nieces. My nephew was a father as well, so I meet my grandnephew as well. It was interesting meeting her; I had fun with my nieces and nephew as much as I could; as they did not know me. Then some time passed, it came to become my last visit.
My sister asked me to choose between her and our mother. That was the last time I saw her. So many things happen to me and her over the last seventeen years. My nieces and nephew had more children and grew up. I don’t know what their lives are like or what they do.
I think that is what I mourn the most, not knowing my blood and regret of choice. You will be missed, my sister.