for my Sister, wherever you are . . . . . . . . . .
17 years ago, for personal reasons, my older Sister disappeared. This portion of my site is dedicated to her . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . and to those like me, who still watch for "that face" in every crowd.
Dear ***,
I would address you by your new name if I knew it, but I don’t. I don’t know what number letter this is, I’ve written you many. They all say pretty much the same thing, with an updating of news sprinkled in.
Even now, seventeen years later, my heart remains unsettled and hurt over your departure. Besides missing you, one issue remains for me that haunts me to this day. You didn’t leave just the family, you left ME. I thought we were close. We shared a bond of deep love and appreciation for each other, sisters together in a sad and lonely world, it felt we were all we really had. It hurts me that never got to say “Good-bye.” I never had the opportunity to tell you that being sisters with you was the happiest part of my life at home. You were home to me. You were the brightness, and warmth in that world of confusion and sadness. With you I wasn’t lonely. I never got to thank you or tell you how much having you in my life meant to me. There’s not a day go by that I don’t think of you. And each time I do, my heart listens for you, and I hope for your happiness wherever you are. And I hope that you know I still love you and miss you. I will never forget you. Every year when your birthday comes, I sing to you in my heart.
I still look for your face in crowds.
I hope by some miracle you come across this letter some day and know it is for you. No matter where you are or what you’re doing I want you to know how important you were to me. I want you to know how much I appreciate all that you did and all that you were. If I could say this to your face I would.
Thank you for teaching me to sew, and use a curling iron. Thank you for teaching me how to put on a bra, shave my legs and use make-up. Thank you for being the mediator between Mom and me when I wanted to start wearing nylons and every other time a mediator was needed. Thank you for teaching me how to walk in heels.
Thank you for playing “Mermaids” with me in the city pool, for many long summer hours of laying out, in the back yard. Thank you for allowing me to hang out with you and your friends. Thank you for not treating me like I was a pest. Thank you for long bike rides on weekends, walks to the old library and roasting hot dogs with me in the livingroom fireplace.
Thank you for sewing our matching nightgowns and letting me sit beside you on the bench when you played the piano. Every time I hear a piano played with heart and depth I think of you. Thank you for holding my hand and sitting close to me, when the fighting started. Thank you for pushing our beds together when I was scared at night. Thank you for letting me watch the lunar eclipse with you and your boyfriend. Thank you for showing me how to build card houses when we were sick. Thank you for driving me to say good-bye to my best friend who was moving away, even though Mom and Dad said not to. Thank you for staying up late with me on Friday nights to watch Nightmare Theatre. Thank you for telling me I was pretty. Thank you for explaining the basics of how to kiss. Thank you for teaching me how to make Pull-Aparts (now a beloved Christmas tradition with my children and their children). Thank you for not being embarrassed by me when I surprised you with a visit at your very first job. Thank you for making me feel loved and loveable always. Thank you for letting me have sleep overs with you when you moved into your first apartment. Thank you for being my maid of honor even when you knew I was marrying a jerk. Thank you for your letters and pictures after you moved away. I’m sorry I wasn’t as good about writing back. Thank you for the memory of your smile. Thank you for your unconditional love, acceptance and protection. Thank you for being my sister and my friend.
I wish I could tell you I had another baby not long after you left. A girl and she looks just like me. I wish I could tell you that after you left I went through the hardest time of my life and I felt so alone and needed you. I wish I could tell you I’m a grandmother now. And I wonder if you are. I wish you could see how my children grew up and see their babies – they’re beautiful, all of them.
I wonder if you still think of me sometimes. And I hope that no matter where you are, and what you’re doing, that you’ve found peace and happiness. I hope you know too, that you’ll never be forgotten.
