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When I was very young, my sister and I would put on plays in the backyard with our neighbours. I don’t have a great memory of it because I was really quite young. But I do recall a stage and some sort of curtain. If there was such a thing, I am sure my Dad built it for us. He could build or fix just about anything.
Fast forward a few years and I feel like I was always in some sort of disagreement with my big sister. Big Sister because at 7 years her junior, I really didn’t fit into her social circle. I also can remember playing store with her. But that was inside and her friends weren’t around. We never traded clothes or boys – again the age gap – but I did look up to her. I defended her when she was around or not. I was quite happy to step in front of anyone that I thought was getting out of line. (Ha I must have been an intimidating sight). No one else was allowed to make fun of or say anything bad about my sister although I was and did with some frequency.
Fast forward again and she was off and married. Living in another town 3 hours away. Her 2 beautiful little girls were always a source of joy to me and still are. They used to come and stay frequently. Stories, gingerbread houses, radio plays, cookies, trips to the CNE, the Science Centre and other shenanigans made for exhausting but lovely weekends.
My sister’s art hangs in my hallway. I love the texture and the colours. I even love the title “Hidden Birch”. Her medium of oil paint is not something that I could ever really get interested in as my medium is yarn. Strangely though we have never really talked about art. Last Fall, we did talk about it. She laughed when I admitted to her that I actually enjoy the process of planning much more than the actual weaving. She laughed because said that she felt the same way about painting.
I would love to hear that laugh again. But cancer has taken my sister. Taken her light and her sparkle, her adventurous spirit and love of life, her joy and with it the joy of so many others. I am so glad that I have the memories and the stories. Life for the rest of us will go on of course. One day at a time though it seems hard to imagine right now. Soon there will be another tiny human in the family. Her first grandchild. One who will undoubtedly have some of her traits. I can hardly wait to see those again. Perhaps her laugh or her warm heart or sense of adventure.
Sending you peace and love.