October 12 was the 3rd anniversary of my sister’s death. I still miss my sister after three years. But she wasn’t just a sister to me. She was 15 years old when I was born. And she was like a second mother to me. When I was young I even went on dates with her. Mainly because at 2, I had perfected the quivering lip. I would cry in the doorway, with my quivering lips and she would hesitate until her date would tell her to go get me.
I don’t really remember that. What I do remember is her reading to me. She had a strong, penetrating voice. And she enunciated each word clearly. There was no need to ever ask her to repeat herself, she was crystal clear the first time. She was also a card-carrying member of the Grammar Police, while I slid by with misdemeanors. (She let me, I was her favorite.)
From her, I learned to love reading. Mysteries and suspense were a shared passion. Better to ask us who we hadn’t read than to ask who we had. We devoured books by author. Once we found an author we liked, we read all the books. And I mean all. We would read what was written under that particular author’s name and then we’d go and find whether they wrote under another name and read them all. Barbara Mertz/Barbara Michaels/Elizabeth Peters. Jean Plaidy/Victoria Holt/Philippa Carr. The list goes on.
We’d also read every series that a beloved author put out. Charlotte MacLeod had the Kellings/Bittersohns and Professor Shandy. Anne Perry with her Monk and Pitt series. First, we would read the books and then we would discuss the characters and their motivation. To us, these characters were a part of our lives, we needed to talk about them to understand them even more and to speculate on what would happen next. Especially if the book was a series. Like the Harry Potter series (we LOVED Harry Potter!)
But our discussions weren’t just about books. Sometimes we devoured TV shows. We were those people. The kind who would watch a TV show together. Yes, the kind of people who would talk on the phone together while watching a TV show. The one that sticks out was the original Twin Peaks. That show had enough weirdness packed into each episode to keep discussions going all week long.
We talked on the phone at least once a week apart from talking while watching TV shows together. Sometimes we talked for 15 minutes. Other times we talked for an hour or more. I would call her when I was driving home from work. That was the hardest adjustment after she died. Not having her to talk to on my drive. More than once, I caught myself starting to dial her number.
Every time I learn something new that I think she’d like, I want to call her. Like the time I learned a new word for an occupation that would have been perfect for her. I couldn’t call her. So I ended up writing a journal entry to her.
My God, Joni. I miss you, especially today when I just learned a new word that you would love. I’m sure you already know the word, but it’s the first time I ever came across it. Bibliotherapist. A therapist who gives reading prescriptions. What a perfect job for you. There’s also an Ecotherapist who recommends different natural settings to people.
I want to combine them and be a BiblioEcoTherapist. I will recommend specific books to be read in specific places. Feeling downtrodden by Corporations? Then read Robin Hood in Sherwood Forest or Central Park or any National Park. Feeling neglected and lonely? Read The Secret Garden in Great Maytham Hall or the Royal Botanic Gardens…or any lush garden.
There is no one to riff this with that would “get” our quirky love of books. When I cry, it’s this that I cry for. This connection we had that is now gone.
Reading was the last thing that I did for my sister. As she lay dying, hooked to a breathing tube, I read from one of our favorite authors. This, more than anything else, helped me to navigate that transition. I hope it helped her as well.
Thank you for indulging me. I know it’s not my usual blog post, but it was something that I needed to write.
Jennifer this is a beautiful post. I am so incredibly sorry for your loss. It’s the little things that hit home the hardest I think. Grief has a way of sneaking up on you. Thank you for sharing such a beautiful and personal post with us.
Thank you, Rachael. Grief does sneak up on you when you least suspect it will. But writing about my sister helps.
This was so lovely and heartfelt. I really get a sense of your very close relationship had with your sister and the loss you have experienced. The journal idea is wonderful, and I hope that helps ease some of the pain you feel at the lost connection. A wonderful post that I’m sure many of us will totally understand!
Thanks for stopping by, Rebecca. You’re right, writing about her both in my journal and on this blog helps.
What a beautiful post Jennifer – the pain of loss is such a personal thing so thank you for sharing.
Thank you for stopping by and reading, Mel.
Thank you for sharing your beautiful friendship and your memories. I am sorry for your loss.
Thanks, Janet. She was my sister, my second mother, and yes…my friend.
Oh my heart aches for you, what beautiful memories you have of your older sister x
Thank you.
That was beautiful Jennifer – and so poignant. My mum is only 19 years older than me and your post made me think about all the things I’m going to miss telling her one day. It’s certainly a reminder to value your loved ones while you have them. I’m so sorry for your loss of Joni x
MLSTL and I’ve shared on my SM 🙂
What a beautiful post about your sister. I am so sorry she is no longer able to ‘be there’ for you but she sure does have a place in your heart and your life. What a blessing that is. Sending love, Denyse xx #mlstl
Thanks, Denyse. She does have a place in my heart and I’m so lucky I had an opportunity to know her.
Thank you Jennifer for sharing this lovely personal glimpse into your relationship with your sister. I lost my baby brother three years ago and my best friend of 40 years just a couple of weeks ago. It is so difficult being without the ability to talk with them, see them, or touch them. However, I find comfort in knowing that they are alive in me, that each of them shaped who I am and so are literally a part of me. And on another note, I actually love the idea of a BiblioEco Therapist. That should be a thing.
I think about these kinds of posts whenever I see them. I am not in my sister’s life, by her choice. It’s a truly pathological situation, but I am pretty sure that she doesn’t miss me and to be honest, I don’t miss her. More the idea of her. I do wonder what it would be like to have a sister I’d miss or who would miss me. And it really is odd to realize that if something happened to me, neither of my siblings would care and that’s truth. It always makes me feel strange, too, because I’m sure that when I reveal this people wonder what’s wrong with me. The funny thing is, nothing is wrong with me. But there’s plenty bad stuff on the other side. I have no idea why I’m spilling my guts here, probably because it’s you. xoxo
Carol, I’m sorry that you don’t have a sister relationship with your biological family members. Thanks for sharing with me. Sometimes biological family members suck. But I do think that you had the benefit of a “sister” and you’ve dedicated a whole business to her. xoxo
Oh, this is such a sad post. I’m so sorry. How wonderful though that you had such a wonderful, close relationship with your sister.
Just beautiful Jennifer, I really feel for you. It’s a lovely way to share your sister with us all and you’re not being indulgent, it’s called love and grief. I know I’m very lucky to have my sister in my life and we’re very close in age as well as lots of other ways. Just today she sent me a photo showing the jumper she’d bought for me, on her! She’d decided it looked so nice on her that she’d keep it and buy me another one 🙂
Thanks for stopping by Deb. Sometimes I think I missed out by not having a sister closer to my age. Instead, I had brothers. But I also had fun going “out on dates” when I was only 2 because of those tears in my big eyes and my quivering lips. She was a sucker for me and couldn’t leave me like that. (And I’m sure my parents were happy to send a toddler “chaperone” on those dates.)
I feel extremely sorry about your sister. I have only one sister who is 12 yrs younger than me but I really can’t live without her. I alway thank God for giving me a sister whom I can laugh and cry with.In fact, your relationship with your sister was really impressive.