Around this time of year, it is difficult to not think about my deceased sister. In thinking about her, I started to think about the following line: “I do not want you to be forgotten.” So, I decided that I might as well write this line down and see where it takes me. Here it is:

Thoughts About My Sister

I do not want you to be forgotten.

Your body lies in a grave in Hope Cemetery.

But your soul rests in Heaven with Father God.

Still, I do not want you to be forgotten.

I remember the day that you died.

I was in the bathroom when I heard mama scream.

Loudly, she screamed, “She’s dead? She’s dead?’

Her scream contained shock and dread.

And I ran out of the bathroom.

I stared at mama.

Then, I looked at your still face.

I did not want to believe that you left us.

That God took you away to the splendor of Heaven.

I stood in shock as police officers walked around the kitchen.

And as paramedics worked on your body.

I guess they were trying to revive you, but you were already gone.

In shock and sadness, I drove to the hospital.

Mama and sister D were the passengers.

And I did not want to face the present.

When we arrived, I kicked a traffic cone that stood outside the door.

My red TOMS got scuffed up

But I did not care.

Because I did not want you to be dead.

Mama, sister D, and I walked down to a room.

The rest of the family sat, with their own still faces.

My uncles sat next to my daddy.

A nurse entered the room and told us the news that we already knew.

You were dead.

The nurse led all of us into another room.

You were there, and we said good-bye to you.

Folks said you looked so peaceful.

But I did not see peace.

I could not see peace.

I wanted my sister to be alive.

I was sad and angry.

Distraught and hurt.

We all left the room.

But then, we had the nerve to go back into that room again.

I looked at you again.

And I still did not see peace.

I saw death.

Death did not look pretty to me.

It looked raw and harsh.

We left the room and that hospital.

We returned to the house, where you lived and died.

We talked about you a lot.

We cried and looked at your pictures.

Beautiful baby pictures and glamorous young woman pictures.

Pictures of a woman who could have been a model if illness had not captured your body.

We talked about you a lot during those days.

But it seems like we hardly talk about you now.

And I know mama and daddy still think about you.

I think about you.

And I remember the big sister things you did with me.

I do not want you to be forgotten.

I hope folks still remember you.

I do not want your memories

Or your face to be wiped away from my mind.