My sister Genene died this week.
I am the ours of a blended family; both my parents were married and divorced, each had two sons and two daughters, then they got married and they had me. My father was 19 years older than my mother. My mothers newest step-daughter Joyce was three years younger than her.
Genene was 19 years older than me, her three daughters are closer in age to me than she was.
I read her obituary today; I learned she had grandchildren and great-grandchildren, I did not even know her daughters got married or had children because my sister and I had not talked since our father died in 1988. No invitations to weddings, no birth announcements, we did not exist in each others lives. Before our dad passed away I do not think we ever had a real conversation either. We did not know each other at all.
I could say so much about why we did not know each other, I have in another post which will live forever in drafts.
I have no idea who my sister was, what she liked to read, to watch on TV, her favorite color, nor did she know this about me.
The only way anyone will ever know I was her sister will be our fathers headstone, which has all of us listed as his children.
I think I can explain the terrible empty feeling I am having now; my sister died a stranger to me. That is about the saddest statement I have ever made.
1 day ago