Goodbye

 How do you say goodbye to a sister gone too soon?

You were the one who walked me to the library and stood by as I printed my kindergarten print name on the card that would allow me to check out books.

Because you were a reader. 

You gave me books from your bookshelf, because you thought I'd enjoy them. 

You bought me a subscription to Jack and Jill magazine, so I'd get mail. 

I remember walking home from Frost Stop with a gallon of Root Beer for Root Beer Floats. You carried it most of the way.

You brought me a beanbag frog from the hospital gift shop where you worked.

You loved music. Because of you WLOI/WCOE, the local country station wasn't my only source of music. American Band Stand and Soul Train played while we did our chores on Saturdays. Well, my chore was dusting the stairs, but cool music was playing. You'd sing along and dance... teaching me the bump. You weren't Mary Poppins, but you made chores fun. 

You came home from work on my birthday one year, and gleefully sang Happy Birthday ending with "you look like a monkey, and you smell like one too." I was not impressed at the time. You also laughed as you waved you hand at my head and told me it was a brain eater and asked what it was doing. When I said I didn't know, you said, "Starving." And you taught me the poem "Late last night in the middle of the day, two dead boys got up to play." Just fun things you heard at work that made you laugh and you wanted to share with us. 

You had to share a bed with me until Rick moved out when I was 6. You would have been 17. That couldn't have been fun, but I never knew how awful it was, because you never complained. 

You were joy and laughter. You looked out for others and put yourself last. 

Maybe that's why you are gone too soon. You never learned to listen to you. 

I wish you would have. Maybe then I wouldn't be missing you today...

Maybe I wouldn't be missing you forever. 

Love you, Lori. 💔