It really is the stupid and small things that hit me hard when thinking about losing my sister Marion so quickly last year. One year ago today, we had no idea she would be gone from us. In less than two months, it will be the one year anniversary of her loss. How can that be?
Back to the stupid things: Marion and I were from different generations, interests and tastes. We didn’t have a whole lot in common as far as our interests go (she was Elvis; I was The Beatles). She was a Fifties housewife who passed on an interest (though passing) of soap operas to Lisa and me. We will always have “As the World Turns” in our lives.
Few movies or shows we agreed upon, but we both loved the soapy “Revenge” when it came on three years ago. We used to discuss the plot lines after each episode.
It came to a climatic semi-conclusion on Sunday night, and I cried. Not for the damn characters, but for the fact that I couldn’t talk about this with my sister, Marion. I wanted so much to discuss this with her.
God, how can I lament the fact that my sister didn’t get to see the conclusion of some stupid soapy TV show? Not the fact that she didn’t get to see her great grandkids growing, or get to meet her new redheaded grandniece, Maylee? Or celebrate her husband’s 78th birthday?
I cry over some stupid TV show that I can’t share with her ever again. Why? Why do these stupid things hit me harder than the important things?
I miss Marion. It hurts I can’t share stupid things with her again.
Sharon A. Penny 
I was thinking just the other day of how close we are to the one year anniversary of Marion’s passing. It’s still hard to think of her without the ache of missing her rearing it’s ugly head. Living so far apart and not being able to see each other, I find that my first thought is always of her living her life down there like nothing has happened….and then I remember. I miss my birthday song that she always sang to me. I miss that sweet voice of hers coming over the phone during our chats, which, by the way, I can still hear echoing in my head. I will always, always think of her whenever I hear Survivor mentioned. She loved that show to the point of not answering her telephone or doorbell when it was on. Losing her from my world has left a big, gaping hole in the normalcy of my life. I loved her like a sister and completely understand the feelings of which you speak. I think the wound of losing her is still raw, but hopefully, passing this anniversary of her absence will start the ‘healing’ part of our hearts. I love you, my sweet cuzzie!!!
With each passing year, there will be floodgates of “timestamps” that you shared with her. It is not so much the anniversary date of her passing, it was the awesomeness she touched each and every one of you with. The scent of a perfume or soap, the silliness of a joke that only the two of you would giggle at, a song, or even a soft whisper of their voice speaking to your heart. My sister has been gone for 11 years … for me it seems like an eternity. We were only 13 months apart and were very close. We actually could “channel” with each other which I found uncanny at times. Sisterhood is a beautiful bond, and it is obvious how much Marion has meant to all of you. It is still hard to imagine they are not with us, but in each of us a part of them lives. Let’s celebrate their beautiful lives and share their memories with love and kindness that they have stamped on each of us.
Thank you Theresa. I know that you, of all people, know about this loss as well. I am always inspired by you because of your resilience with all the losses you have had, yet you are always such a positive and warm person. You are a real blessing in this world, and I miss seeing you since I left SDSU.
Cookie, as always, you provide many words of wisdom and love.