Forever 28
“If you have a sister and she dies, do you stop saying you have one? Or are you always a sister, even when the other half of the equation is gone?”
Bushy, bouncy hair.
That is what I remember about my sister – bushy, bouncy hair.
When we were little, Mom never wanted to cut our hair. And Becky’s hair was dark brown, bushy tangles. Her hair was darker than any of ours, matching her daddy’s mane.
As Becky got older, she tamed her locks, drew them back into a bun, and kept them under a hard shellac of hairspray. I used to joke that you could bounce a rock off of that hair. Maybe you could.
It would be nice to make that joke again.
A silent laugh – that would follow a good joke. She looked like a Muppet whose puppeteer forgot to make a sound, throwing her head back, mouth smiling and open, not emitting any sound at all.
Even as she began to wither, she still laughed. We never heard it, but we saw it mimed all the time.
I just want to experience that one more time.
Third in line, fourth in height.
She was so short. There was always a little dip in height when we stood in chronological order. The four Albright girls, all together. A set of sisters. A huge hole.
We’ll never stand together again. Not in this world, at least.
“You can do this.”
She pushed me. She encouraged me. I thought she hated me, and sometimes, maybe she did. We were sisters, so that happens. We got over it. We were there for each other when it counted.
I wouldn’t have experienced my college graduation without her. “You can do this, Tabby.”
I can’t remember her voice anymore. I wish I could.
Becky left this world, taking all of her love, generosity, and ambition with her. Her disease stole her from us too early. We had more memories to make. She had two nephews and a niece to meet. Birthdays to celebrate. Graduations to see. Weddings to plan. Grandchildren to hold.
The pain never leaves. You can ignore it for a while, but it is always there, just waiting. It waits for a day when I pull a card from my idea box, and the prompt states, “Describe losing somebody or something that you cared about very much.”
Who else would I write about? My ex-husbands? I’m glad they’re gone. Friends who have left my life? Good riddance.
No. There is no loss in my life that tops this one. Honestly, the only thing that is going to be harder will be the death of my parents. While I don’t want to think about that and don’t want to experience that, it is harder to think of my parents losing another one of us before their time.
We’re all here for a short time. And we are horrible to each other and horrible to ourselves. We obsess about our bodies. We get so angry when small things derail our plans. But, we only get to live this life one time. We only get the people we love for a little bit.
Make sure the people you love know that you love them. Otherwise, you may miss your chance to tell them.
