A loss always makes us think of the values of our life. There’s the initial shock at first. When you’re trembling and all those memories you didn’t even know about just rushing through your mind. My sister’s mum passed away this morning. It was a relief for her. She no longer has to suffer. But we, who stayed behind will miss all the smiles. We’re left with the memories. And then something happens and we just want to call that person and then we realise nobody’s going to pick up that phone.
My sister’s mum passed away this morning. She’s not been well for a while and she’s been in hospital yet it was a shock. For me for sure.
I have so many nice memories of her. She was the second wife of my dad and they divorced well before my dad met my mum. Sometimes she took care of us when my sister was at work and I spent my holiday at them. She treated me nicely. She was chasing us around the pool because we always wanted to go into the deep water swimming pool and not into the one that was for children. I was a very confident swimmer. And obviously we sneaked into the deep water. Or down to the river which was supposedly dangerous as well. I remember she covered herself with sour cream because she said it was very good for sunbathing and it protected the skin and it was very nutritious as well. She looked really silly and I don’t even know where she got that idea from. But actually I heard it from others too.
She and my dad hated each other. That’s what they said. They had a messy divorce and their relationship was very hectic as well. In truth, every time they met at family gatherings they soon moved to a quiet corner or to a separate table and they were chatting for hours with heavenly delight on their faces. Obviously they hated each other, right? She was like a grandparent ‘s sister for me. All I can say is nice about her.
I know it’s better for her over there but I remember her as the shiny and lovely lady and that’s how she’ll live in my mind and I guess she’s joining my dad’s chatty club in heaven. Under the big tree in the middle of a field where the elderly gather to share their stories, cook gulash on the fire and watch over our steps till the end of time.


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