Time travels… or does it?

Time is linear.  You cannot go back.  Once experienced, it is forever and move on.
All lessons gleaned in the days of youth to understand the human existence.

But is it?  Linear I mean.  In the days since my sister Christine died, I have spent a great deal of time visiting previous experiences.  Not literally of course, but in my memory.  Each just a fresh and real as the actual event.  Some wonderful, some annoying, some brutally painful.

Truth is I miss her.  For several years leading up to her death, she struggled with her health.  Her physical health and as a result her mental health.  It was a struggle for our extended family helping her and dealing with her.  So many “close calls” where she was pulled back from that threshold until she was not pulled back.

We loved her enough to come running to her side each and every time.  We also loved her enough to openly question “was this the best thing for her?”  Were the struggles she faced, and we faced in supporting her ultimately to the fulfillment of her life?  It hurt to see and experience the whole of her existence.

My sister was a vibrant person when she was healthy.  Granted she could be a colossal pain in the ass too, but she was generally giving and loving.  I miss that.

She and I were not especially close as children.  In fact there were times, she was wicked enough and made my life a living hell.  As adults we reconciled that behavior and she sincerely and humbly apologized.  It was a watershed moment and we became very close.   She helped make me feel part of our family after many years of walking on the fringe (emotionally so to speak.)  We confided in each other, and bounced ideas off each other.  This is not to say she did not completely piss me off at at times, and I have voicemails to prove I did the same for her.

In my eulogy to her I reminded myself and our family, she was a human being first and foremost.  Full of flaws and blemishes, and beauty and brilliance.  She walked those last few years bearing the trials of this mortal life with as much grace as she could.

I hope I can follow her example.  I miss you Chris.