It’s appropriate that we were anchored in one of our favorite spots in the North Channel, hiding out from strong westerly winds, feeling nicely protected with beautiful views of Mt. McBean. We’ve had lazy days, not moving, staying put and enjoying the breezy beautiful weather. Remembering, marking the time last year was hard; this year memories of that day are flooding back: the missed call from Amy that showed up on my phone as I turned the corner into her neighborhood, thinking I was nearly there and that maybe she was running a bit late for her chemo appointment… except it was her son calling me from her phone, to let me know that she was having a stroke; her final clear words to me; the mark her eyebrow pencil made on her bathroom counter as she lost the use of her arm as she was putting on her makeup (it was weeks before I cleaned that mark off the counter); the kindness of so many medical staff; those horrible, yet beautiful and sacred days and nights family and friends spent by her bedside because what we knew for sure is that Amy did not want to die alone.
I’ve done much reading in the two years since I lost my sister. I wish I knew then the questions I should have been asking her. Then again, maybe I already knew the answers.
I continue to grieve–and celebrate!–Amy. As difficult as it is marking two years, I am constantly recognizing the ways she continues to bless my life. Oh Amy, and you thought you wouldn’t be missed? Ha!
I’m still heartbroken everyday, but this post brought on a sob-fest like I haven’t had in a long time! I guess I needed to let it out.
I know Jenny, I know… Just thinking about that stupid eyebrow pencil brings me to tears each time, it’s one of the things from that day I can’t let go of. Erica was helpful that day, asking me if there were any traditions/actions that I was participating in to help me think more deeply of her. We were hunkered down, pretty much alone, so I couldn’t practice WWAD (what would Amy do) by reaching out, getting to know new people, treating every one I met with kindness. I did finally watch that advanced basketweaving video to learn some of the techniques Amy was using with her later pieces, and then started a new piece. Amy feels so close when I work on pine needle baskets…
In my back & forth with Erica, I mentioned how so much has changed in 2 years. I loved her reply to me: “The thing that hasn’t changed is how she impacted everyone’s lives.” Erica is right. Amy “lives on” in the impact her life, her person, has on us all.