This week while dining at an awesome bistro, cleverly titled, The Bistro, I got a call from my "baby" cousin. Okay, so he is no longer a real baby, but in our family of practically all girls, he once was and always will be "our baby."He's getting married in July, and like a lot of us, anticipating a change can bring back other changes in your life - pretty common. So, where has his reflection taken him? To a change that affects his future.
Someone will be missing at his wedding, his sister. Unfortunately, he was only three when she was taken instantly from us in her car, she was driving alone and hit a cement drain wall asleep.
I got this call because he is trying to piece together a memory of a beautiful person that he doesn't remember, but feels like he should, after all, she was and is...his sister.
Just at the mention of her name, I have a flood of warm goosebumps, as she was my childhood idol. Partly because I was almost four years younger and our moms were best friends so we spent a lot of time together. The other partly was because she was one of those people that you just felt loved by. I don't ever remember not saying and feeling loved in our relationship.
I have a little, autograph dog that I got for my tenth birthday that has written across an ear in bubble letters, "I love you! Love, Jeanean"
Jeanean is a part of my first memories...pooping together. (embarrassing, but true)
She is also in one of my most lasting, terrifying memories of hearing her car pull away from our house just minutes before her life ended.
But her brother doesn't know what those hours or days were like after her death. He doesn't remember the church that was overflowing with high school kids and grown-ups trying to understand such a tragedy.
All he knows is that there will be someone missing and that he wants to feel like he knows exactly who she is to acknowledge her absence.
If only he could know how sacred that spot should be. Now, it is up to us that knew her radiant spirit and details of her being to fill him in on the sister that would wish him the best and tell him repeatedly, "I love you! Love, Jeanean."
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3 comments:
It seems I've learned at least one thing about growing up as a thinker. Teen years are confusing. The 20s are wide open, full of dreams and aspirations. 40s are the beginning of a bit of reflection.
They say as a person ages, the wisdom of their years is evident in how much time they spend looking back. There is a break in life for many, that happens during their Over The Hill years. At that moment, they begin to filter their lives through the memories of their youth.
It seems, although, that some can begin this process much sooner than others. And, a wise soul is one that can make meaning out of those memories to affirm life.
I think you have a rare ability to do this at such a young age.
Long live old souls in young bodies.
Peace
Sean, you are the brother my mother forgot to birth. Your clever wit and philosophical approach to events is uncanny.
I consider your compliment incredibly valuable, so when I say "thank you," I truly mean thank you.
May your mother be forgiven and the Eppersons be well.
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