I Miss My Sister

I miss my sister.  Today would have been Loretta’s 87th birthday, but we lost her to the hands of an incompetent doctor 9 years ago.  Hardly a day goes by that I don’t remember something funny she said or we did together.

Everyone should have at least one champion in their lives, at least in their growing-up years.  For me, that was my sister.

I wasn’t good at sports but academically did pretty well, and in grade school won several big spelling bees.  She always took the day off work and sat in the audience, beaming with pride as I spelled my way to the finals.

When we started the agency, I was a little nervous about telling the family.  It was a huge decision and we had walked away from pretty good salaries at well-established companies.

My mother said, “Well, I hope you don’t lose your house.”  Sis said, “You can do it.  Don’t worry about anything, just get out there and do it.  You and Mike are smart and determined.  You’ll do well.”

No matter how young I was or how old I got, there she was, telling me I had the world by the tail and that everything was going to work out just right.  She always said just what I needed to hear, when I needed to hear it.

So, who wouldn’t miss that kind of love and support?  Things weren’t always rosy between us. After all, we were sisters.  But we got past the problems and stuck together to the end.

Our birthdays were just three days apart — well, 22 years and three days. She always treated me as if I had been her gift those 22 years earlier.


So today, probably more than any other day, I miss the bond that can only exist between sisters.