Sorry about this, but it is another sad post.

[melo_annechen]

There's no easy way to look at it. My sister died yesterday.

It is kind of hard to focus on things, because I'm still dealing with the bit about her being gone. Me being me, I write about it.

My little sister, who had been through more crap than most people deal with in a full lifetime, only lived to be 41. She beat leukemia, dealt with one health problem after another besides having a dozen other things thrown at her.

Then she developed interstitial lung disease.

For several years, I watched her get more and more tired. I got used to watching out for her oxygen line when we went to visit. I re-learned the techniques for loading an oxygen tank caddy into vehicles.

I kept trying to pull her into my online communities, because I wanted my friends to know how funny and sharp she could be. I kept telling her it was a way to socialize without having to get out of the house, which in recent years involved hauling two or three oxygen tanks around for a trip lasting only an hour or so. When smoking was banned in most restaurants, it meant we could go out together again. The last time we managed that was for my birthday.

I wanted to spend more time with her.

It is a selfish wish, because I know she struggled to just breathe this last year. I don't know how many medications she was on, and I suspect more than a few might have been for pain. She had been so sick for so long, I was both prepared and surprised at the news.

There will be a memorial service, and Mama said something about asking for donations to the American Lung Association in lieu of flowers. My brother-in-law is going to hold a wake for her later, just like she wanted.

I am going to try to write down a few of the stories from the past four decades for the party. Some of them, Mama might need a couple of drinks to hear. But that is why we need this, not to remember how she was when she was sick, we need to remember who she really was.

Little things, like when the chemotherapy damaged her hearing, she just broadened her musical tastes to listen to Rob Zombie as well as Silly Wizard, on eleven. Maybe we can find the dissertation she did in middle school on the life cycle of the free-range polyester herds, and see if anyone can get through it on a cold reading without giggling. Bring out the photo albums, and let the kids laugh at how we looked when we were kids.

We just need to be happy she was alive, even if we miss her.