I often talk with my sister Eileen about aging while I’m driving. Even though she passed away more than 15 years ago, she still answers me, most of the time.
I tell her, “you wouldn’t like this, you know. Being in your eighties isn’t so easy!” “I know you were beautiful your whole life, but now you would wake up with your eyes swollen (as I do) for no reason. Your stomach would stick out no matter how thin you are and I’m pretty sure I’m shorter so you would be too. Our feet are funny now, and you know that small waist I used to brag about to you? It’s gone too!”
While I’m lying around today, reading the Sunday times in my long t-shirt and no makeup on, I know you would be in a beautiful dressing gown (one of the ones you had made just before you left). You never looked less than beautiful! And we would talk on the phone. It’s a sunny August day, but I can’t bring myself to make chit chat with anyone on the outside. I really just want to talk with you. I needed to be alone today so it was good that Bob decided to play golf! I’m happy reading the paper and Vanity Fair. You wouldn’t recognize anyone in either the paper or the magazine anymore. I don’t, and I’ve been here all along. I wish I had you to discuss everything with. You know, what should we wear for fall? what colors? What coats? Or should we keep our hair long or go shorter? You always say, ‘keep our hair long, of course.’ Our same conversation we had every year.
I miss Thelma our oldest sister, too, but in a different way. You wouldn’t believe Terry’s daughter is going off to college and Jimmy’s boys are starting high school. Bob and I have been together thirty years now and I talk to your son, Tommy at least once a week. Isn’t it amazing how life went on but left me an only child (albeit an old only child), even though I was the youngest of three girls?
Most every day, I’m happy, but today, I’m missing you!!! Send me a sign.
Your loving sister,