My Sister

My sister died recently. She was six years older than me. I’m the last of our nuclear family; parents, brother, sister gone. Who’s next?

I remember when my mother died. “I’m an orphan!” I said, at age 63. Silly.

Guilty? Of course I’m guilty. Why didn’t I go to California when she was alive, before her Alzheimer’s? I used to fly to California a few times a year to visit our daughter, but that was before Margaret moved there to live with her daughter, Suzanne. Somehow it seems Sara moved East and Margaret moved West at the same time.

Margaret’s two sons pre-deceased her. Is anything sadder?

Well,yes. Lots of things.

Our parents both lived to be 96. That’s my goal.

Stiffen that spine, Elinor. It’s Thanksgiving week and family’s coming! Care for the family you have.

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