Kaye 1949-2006

loss of a sibling. She was a difficult woman, a difficult child, a wildling teenager, a thorn in my family's side from her birth.

 

 

it seems just moments ago

that I sat on my aunt’s lap

in the cavernous back seat

of one of those 40’s era cars.

the December night was cold,

and my warm breath made

little circles on the window.

my sweet, kind aunt,

in her southeast Missouri drawl,

whispered to me

“look, honey, look up there

at that window with the light.”

she pointed at the only window

lit on the second story

of the old clapboard and columned building.

“that’s where your mommy is �"

and she is gettin’ you a baby sister!”

I was two months away from

the age of three.

 

only moments ago...

my red-headed baby sister

came into my life and

made my first memory.

we played house and dress-up.

we played endless board games.

we got the mumps together

and the measles too.

we fought over toys and books

and dolls and clothes and boys.

she always seemed to be right there

on my coattails, right there

in my business.

 

only moments ago was over

half a century ago.

and now, my red-headed

baby sister is dying.

she is starved for air,

and the oxygen is already on high.

her lungs are shutting down

and her heart valves are leaking.

she says she feels like

she is swallowing sand.

she sees the end.

i know this is part of life.

but this is hard.

god, this is hard.