Sometimes I see my sister Wendy's spirit sitting in the clouds. It's the honest, to God, truth ... and this is what it looked like the night before last.
I now have all my momentos of her in one place, and again, I am putting together a display of photos and objects. My niece, Catherine, gave back many of the things I gave her Mother during her life. And I have everything she ever gave me. I also have many of her clothes and all of her music and books. I have two of her cats. And I have Catherine.
When Catherine first gave me these things it was an absolute trip to come across so many things, from so many places, and over so many years and occasions. Going so far back in time and reviewing a history of my giving, from places she would never see ... a pair of silver Guatemalan Quetzal earrings, a strand of beads from the French West Indies, a bracelet from Hawaii. It was amazing and rewarding both, to see the care she gave in keeping these things safe and special.
So as it turns out ... when I was giving these gifts to Wendy, I was actually giving these gifts to myself, not knowing she would die at 46 and I would have almost all of them back. I would trade every one of these things, except Catherine and the cats, for one more day with her. It's obviously still very painful. And it doesn't seem to get better. It just gets different ... and farther and father away from the way it used to be.
In some ways it was much easier when the pain was fresh ... and shocking. I think I liked myself more when she was here. I should work on that. But I like having my identity all tangled up in hers.
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