When her cancer reared it’s ugly head again last year, I quit blogging. Actually, I quit doing most everything. Now I sit at my keyboard… 2 months of grieving, 6 months as a hospice caregiver, 3 years of holding her hand through chemo treatments, and a lifetime of sisterhood…. all of behind me, and nothing but memories are left. There were 3 of us. Now there are only 2; my baby sister and me. 2 left to learn to heal. 2 left to learn to move on. 2 left to start over
Coming back to this blog has been incredibly difficult. Staring at the cabinet cards I’ll be uploading today, I thought back to the day I bought them.
She, sitting on her walker seat, flipping through a shoebox full of old photos at the flea market we decided to visit after her hospice checkup was over. Flipping each one over, announcing “Found one!” whenever she found a name written on the back. We lost her a few weeks later. For 3 years, we stopped at antique shops and flea markets after her doctor’s appointments because she wanted to help me rescue genealogy artifacts. And, even more, she just wanted to spend as much time as she could with the people she loved, doing what they loved with them.
It’s bitter-sweet to think back to these things. Inevitable, also. There are literally boxes full of artifacts that she helped me find, that I know need to be uploaded so that researchers have access to them. So, today, I am starting over. Instead of waiting till I can type without crying…I’ve decided to type despite the tears. I’ve cleaned my scanner, dusted my desk, and pulled out the last items I rescued with her.
I have no idea where this blog will lead me, but knowing that she was and forever had a hand in it, it’s bound to be an adventure.