Happy Heavenly Birthday Joanne

This is a repost of an entry I made to my blog 4 years ago. I am so tired, I just don't have it in me to write a post that is worthy of my sister's memory today, and so I will repost...






I would like more sisters, that the taking out of one, might not leave such stillness. ~Emily Dickinson



What's the good of news if you haven't a sister to share it? ~Jenny DeVries



How do people make it through life without a sister? ~Sara Corpening



Sweet is the voice of a sister in the season of sorrow. ~Benjamin Disraeli



Between sisters, often, the child's cry never dies down. "Never leave me," it says; "do not abandon me." ~Louise Bernikow



Sigh.



I miss her. Deeply. More deeply now than three seven years ago when she died.



As I get older, I realize just how important the relationship that I had with Joanne really was. I hear my friends making plans with their sisters, I see older ladies who are clearly sisters, walking arm in arm in the mall. I will never have that closeness again.



My friends are wonderful, but my sister was my sister. We fought like cat and dog most of our lives, but the knowledge that she was there is so much more powerful now that she is gone. Even now, as the third seventh anniversary of her death approaches, I catch myself thinking, “I have to tell Joanne about this” and before the thought is even complete, I realize that I can’t tell her. Oh sure, I comfort myself by saying that she sees and hears everything now that she is in Heaven, but some days, that’s not good enough. Some days, dammit, I just want her back. I want to share my achievements and goals. I want to vent on her. I want her to give me advice. I want her to make me laugh again.



The hole is deep, just like the hole that my Dad left. Some days, it just seems to get deeper with time instead of slowly closing a little. I remember feeling this way about Dad…I think it may have even been his third anniversary that hit me so hard. I remember missing him so much that my chest ached. I feel that way about Joanne today. I miss her in the depths of my soul today. The physical ache is truly painful. I can’t even describe it.



I feel her around me some days and that comforts me, but boy I wish I could hug her one more time. I wish I could thank her for the impact she made on me and my family. I wish we could grow old together and knit sweaters for our grandchildren. I wish I could tell her I love her.



If you are blessed with a sister, call her today. Tell her you love her. Tomorrow may never come and you will wish you could tell her just one more time.

Happy Heavenly Birthday Joanne. You would have been 41 years young today. I miss you more than anyone will ever comprehend. RIP Sweet Girl.

Happy "would be" 40th birthday

Oh the party we would have had if you were here.

Lots of food, fun and friends to celebrate how awesome you were.

But, you're not here, you're There. And I'm here. So, Joe, the boys, Mum and I will have a red velvet cake in your honour. I hope you'll watch as we blow out your candles.

How I wish you were here and not There.

RIP Baby Sister.

5 years

Five years have passed since I lost her.

Five long, short, quick, slow, painful years.

Some days it seems like yesterday. Others like 25 years ago.

I *still*, for a split second, think of calling her and realize I can't.

Damn I miss her.

Mom put an ad in the local paper today.

She has been on my heart all day.

The support of my Facebook friends has been phenomenal. Thank you for being there...I am blessed with friends that I wish were family.

When she loved me...

The boys are watching Toy Story 2 right now. Every.single.time. this song comes on, I have to leave the room, bawling. It makes me think of Joanne and miss her so much. :o(

Happy Heavenly Birthday Joanne

Today, you would be 39. I love you and miss you so very much.

I hope your party in Heaven is a great one.

I love you.

Christmas time is so bittersweet...

My Mum and Dad made Christmas SO special when we were growing up. No matter if Dad was laid off around the Christmas season or times were tough, Joanne and I always got what we asked for from Santa.

I remember years when our family room was FULL of gifts...like can't walk because the room was so full full. Amazing.

We didn't have family to celebrate with...our entire extended family was back home in England, but Mum and Dad always took us to good friends' houses and made up for the emptiness that being alone in a country 3,000 miles from home can bring.

Joanne and I would watch all the Christmas specials on TV...Frosty, Rudolph, The Misfit Toys, A Christmas Carol, etc. etc. etc. We just loved Christmas. And that love for Christmas carried into our adulthood. Joanne LOVED to cook and entertain. She loved watching our kids open their gifts. Christmas became about out kids and no longer about us and we both loved every moment of it.

So, this is the time of year when I miss Joanne and Dad the most. They both had such a love for the whole Christmas idea and they really made it a special time. Now that they are gone, although we still love Christmas and celebrate the same way, their emptiness is so very real. The void they left is still so huge. Christmas will never, ever be the same again now that they are gone. Our celebration is quieter, more low-key. My boys don't get to see the love that Joanne and Dad had for this time of year.

So, as much as I still love Christmas, I also dread the pain that comes with it. :o(

So alone...

I don't think I've ever had a day in my life where I have felt so alone.

Mom had a hysterectomy today and I was completely alone.

I watched her wheeled off on her stretcher at 9:42 am and didn't see her again until after 3:30. It was the longest 6 hours of my life. I wandered the halls of the hospital alone; I came home to Mom's empty house for lunch alone; I sat in the parking lot of the hospital alone; I sat in the lounge of the hospital alone...several times; I sat for hours. Alone.

Today, I felt the emptiness that Joanne left wholeheartedly. Today, for the first time, I felt like an only child. Today, I felt completely and entirely alone.

I needed someone to talk to today. I needed someone to sit and wait and worry with me. I needed someone to hug me. I had no one. If Joanne were alive, she would have been there with me. There was another lady there having surgery and she had her two daughters in the waiting room with her until she was wheeled away for surgery. While their Mom was operated on, they chatted to one another quietly, while I played Brickbreaker on my Blackberry. Other families sat together, some quietly reading magazines, not really socializing with one another, but comforted, I am sure, by the other person's presence, while I watched the clock and prayed...alone.

What I would have done to have Joanne there with me today. You have no idea.

No.

Idea.