Remembering My Sister

 

Yesterday marked a year since my sister's death. We had a small family gathering, ate food she loved and shared memories. My brother-in-law brought pictures and one of her favorite stuffies (which she was unapologetic about loving). We laughed, shed some tears and I think marked the occasion well.

Our nephew asked why we would do such a thing? To him it seemed weird to make a big to do over a day that brought such sadness. Wouldn’t it be better to just move on and not remind ourselves how much we missed her? I suppose that’s why many people wouldn’t create a “celebration” of the person they lost. It is painful to remember. It is also joyful and fun. My sister was joyful and fun. She would want to be remembered with silly stories and laughter. We also talked about the hard stuff, relived some of those last days. Even there, we remembered how God held us together. How peaceful she was in her last weeks, quietly letting go of the fight. And she had fought bravely and hard.

Even if I could forget my sister, I wouldn’t want to. She was such an important part of my life. We shared so many wonderful experiences together. I wish I could remember the sound of her laugh, I remember it was lovely. I remember her laughing and what could make her laugh, but not the sound of it. Others said they could still hear her laugh. I can’t. I can hear certain predictable comments she would make with a certain look in her eye and quirk of her mouth – especially regarding our other siblings. I can hear the timber of her voice as she’d say, “he’s just weird.”

I told my nephew we mark the one year point because it’s a milestone. All last year we could say, “a year ago she was with us and we…” We can no longer do that. She wasn’t here a year ago today. It’s a day to mark moving on. Experiences we won’t share, new people she won’t meet, jokes she won’t know. That is the bitter sweetness of it. We go forward without her. Every day I think of things I want to tell her. I suppose I always will. 

Most importantly, for my nephew who doesn’t really have a strong faith belief in much of anything, we could live out what we believe with all of our being – our sister, friend and wife is in heaven, with the God she loved. We have no doubts. It is this hope that gives us peace going forward without her. It is what gave her peace as she labored through her last days here. If we didn’t have that hope, remembering her would be excruciating. If there was nothing more, but we believe there is much more.

People might say I’ve given myself some lovely “pie in the sky” pipe dreams to hold on to. Whatever it takes to make us feel better, and so on. But we do indeed actually believe in life after death with our Creator in heaven. We didn’t make it up to make us feel better. In fact, we don’t really feel better at all, just at peace that all is well. We will one day be together again. I, and my family, can firmly say together, “I know Whom I have believed and am convinced that He is able to keep that which I’ve committed to Him against that day.”  II Timothy 1:12

It was a lovely celebration, full of good good and lots of laughter. I, for one, intend to go on celebrating the wonderful gift that was my sister.