Final Goodbye

Lee, my niece and writer of this touching post, Saying Goodbye, expresses the pain of burying your mother. She talks about the mundane and the deep feelings of not wanting to  let her go.

http://littleleeway.wordpress.com/2014/11/10/saying-goodbye/

Her mother was my sister, June. For days I've thought of her and what I owe her for the life I lead today. I've thought of what I can say at the burial, if I can hold myself together enough to talk. There is  no way to sum up the long life of such a special person. I will tell about my admiration for her from the time I was a small child. 

Imagine that you have someone living  in your house who is as pretty as the movie stars on the  covers of the magazines. And imagine that she loves you dearly and will do anything for you. So different looking from my sweet mother who had lost her figure long before I was born, but just as loving as my mother and as kind and caring for her young siblings. 

She was meant to have a happy life because she sacrificed so much for others, but as a young woman with two teenage children, she faced the death of her husband. Her world fell apart and the weight of raising the kids alone seemed overwhelming. She had not  held a job for fifteen years. 

She was a resilient woman who persevered under grueling circumstances. The family had to move where she could find work that  would support her family. The children didn't fare well in the new school and June had to rethink her situation again. 

All I wanted to  do was save her from the overpowering grief and sorrow that had stolen my sister's smile, her love of life. But I could not fix her problems. Now I know that grieving is a personal and private matter that no one can ease  for another. 

She raised her  girls and they are both doing well. She finally found another man that she could love and who adored her. But their happiness was short lived. Less than ten years of marriage before her health deteriorated. She knew when it was time to go, and she passed away with her family around her.

Now we must say a final goodbye. I can hardly bear it.

My sister, June

My Tribute to My Sister

Friday, December 14, we celebrated my sister June with a lovely service at St. David's Episcopal Church in Roswell, GA. June was fifteen years old when I was born. As in my older brother's funeral service, my words about what June had meant to me were used by the Rector.
I was surprised both times that my letters were considered worthy to use as a tribute. I had written an email about June's passing to friends and copied it to Gay and Stu, sister and brother-in-law, who  shared it with those presenting the service.

I'll share it with you.

Our family will never be the same. She was my second mother when I was small and my dear friend and sister as an adult. She bought me my first book, my first record, the Nutcracker Suite, and took me to my first movie.

She was Santa Claus to Gay and me, paying for gifts at Christmas that my parents couldn't afford. She rocked me to sleep when I was a baby and taught me to say my prayers. She read to Gay and me each night and I'll never forget, Wynken, Blynken, and Nod, one night set off in a wooden shoe...

June was a person loved by all who knew her. Even the staff in the hospitals and assisted care places, fell under her spell which she cast with a beautiful smile and genuine interest in others. She was the person I wanted to grow up to be. She always told me she was proud of me, and her expectations made me a better person.

If you have a sister or had a sister, you might understand how deeply I feel this loss. I appreciate the caring, meaningful cards I've received.

Tell us about your sister.