SISTERS

Laurissa and her sister Kristy

Laurissa is Kristy's older sister. When the girls were young, people actually thought they were twins, even though they were born two years apart. Laurissa was always a concerned and doting big sister. She taught Kristy how to hold a pencil for the first time. She read her books before she was able to read for herself. She showed her how to get dressed and to make the bed.

As the two of them grew they continued to share a bed well into grade school. Of course this wasn't always easy for two young girls to do. I remember many nights listening to them fight over the covers and yelling at the top of my lungs, "Don't make me come in there!" As the years flew by, Laurissa grew up to be a petite woman weighing barely 100 pounds. Kristy grew up with what she called "elephant bones". Maybe because she weighed around 11 pounds when she was born!

Both girls grew up strong, healthy and wildly intelligent. Today I not only mourn the loss of my youngest daughter Kristy, but I mourn Laurissa's loss of Kristy as well. I wish I could take it away - that they could once again laugh and giggle the way they always did when they saw each other. Even though they had become adults they revelled in the closeness only sisters can share. I wouldn't even mind if they made fun of me or tried to beat me in a silly little game of "I spy with my little eye".

I didn't call Laurissa as much as I could have. The day I called to tell her about Kristy's death, she was so happy when she answered the phone. I am so sorry sweetie. I wish I could take those terrible words back. I wish I could stop time. I wish I could have you both beside me. I feel guilty that I still have my own sister. A loss such as yours is truly indescribable.

When I see you now, you embody all that is beautiful in my life. You have so much of your sister in you and it shows all the time. But you are unique, a jewel of infinite beauty, and I am so much better for having known you. We have grown very close through all our suffering and grief. I am dreaming of the day when we can again dance and celebrate life together.

Today's run: Instead of running today I walked the lake with my 20 lb. weighted vest. I saw the solitary swan again, floating silently in the cold water.