I never imagined a day in which my little sister would not be present in my life. Losing her has cut me to the bone; her continued absence continues to grieve me deeply. It feels like a piece of me has been excised as painfully as possible and irrevocably so. I miss her so much.
It's sometimes said that when you lose grandparents or parents, you lose your link to the past; when you lose a child, you lose a link to the future; but that when you lose a sibling, you lose a link to the past, present, and future. Losses cannot fairly be compared, but I can say that this is the deepest pain I've ever felt. I was 8 years old when she came into the world, and we shared a common history that I expected would continue on into eternity.
Our last conversation, two weeks before she left us, was characteristic of our relationship, for as long as I can remember: often contentious and spirited in our differences mixed with a deep, fierce, and enduring love for each other. From the time she was capable of conscious thought, Becky was spicy, spunky, and headstrong. And mischievous. She was a funny little thing. And we loved each other deeply. I'm miss her so much; I miss texting her. I miss getting her phone calls. I'm saddened that we couldn't continue to grow our adult relationship. I'm left wanting more.
I am thankful for a few things. I am thankful that in the last ten years, our relationship was maturing and deepening and becoming more and more healthy and loving. I am also so very glad that in our very last conversations we exchanged I love you's.
I'm also glad that we have a bright hope. I'm reminded of Jesus' words that his father, Jehovah, 'is a God, not of the dead, but of the living, for they are all living to him' (Luke 20:38). I keep before me the thought that the Creator of the universe, by means of his only begotten son, is about to call her name, as he will with countless billions, to give as many as possible the chance to know him and become his friends. And, as bad as I and my family are suffering, Jehovah is longing to raise her back to life as mentioned in Job 14:13-15. And when he does, I imagine our reaction will be similar to that mentioned when Jesus raised a little girl back to life: her parents were beside themselves with overwhelming emotion. That is the day I am looking forward to and thankful to have as a hope. I'm looking forward to seeing her again, hugging and kissing her again, telling her how much I love her, and being overwhelmed with emotion, this time with tears of joy.
Just one more thing I am grateful for that I would like to mention. I'm grateful for all the words, text messages, phone calls, cards, flowers, prayers, and other acts of support by many of our extended family and friends. Much thanks to you all. We love you.