I Miss my Sister.
I miss my sister.
She was supposed to be sharing life with me. The antics of our kids, now our grandkids.
Instead, I see pictures of her grandkids and know how much they would have loved her.
“You need to get on with your life,” I’ve been told.
I have gone on with my life, but it’s a different version.
And the hurting doesn’t stop. You just get used to the pain. Kinda.
But you never stop wanting to share, to talk to them.
To hear the voice you’re afraid you might one day forget.
We shared a childhood, a family. We always shared a bedroom. She was a kicker.
One night she moaned for hours.
“Stop it” I yelled, but she didn’t. I wanted to kick her off the bed. Good thing I didn’t.
Mom and dad took her to the hospital. It was acute appendicitis.
Peggy and I would go and swing on the swing set, singing at the tops of our voices.
There was the time she and I threw a surprise party for mom.
There was the surprise party she threw for me when I was sixteen.
We fought, we argued, but we would always talk.
When she apologized she’d say “soarry”
I miss her so much right now.
I love you, Peg. I always will.
Note: We lost Peggy to domestic violence. I wrote her story as well as mine in the book, Broken: A Story of Abuse and Survival.
Today, Saturday September 12th, 2015, you can buy the Kindle version for just 99 cents. It will be on sale for 1.99 on the 13th and 2.99 on the 14th.
Here is the trailer we made for the book.
Please buy a copy and share the trailer.
There are a lot of Peggys out there.
About Anne Peterson
I write words you can feel, sometimes they rhyme. If I'm not writing, I'm telling stories from my head, to little ones who call me grandma.