My sister died two weeks ago. We have just returned home from her funeral. In October, she began to feel tired. By January, she was dead of an aggressive cancer that shrugged aside all attempts at chemotherapy. She was 63. She leaves a husband, three children, a daughter-in-law, and three stunned siblings.
I recently read a fantasy novel in which dragons have this one gift: When they are born, they see the moment of their death. And because of that, everything changes. They live with recklessness, knowing that the army beating down the door right now won't kill them. They can spend their retirement funds, because they know.
I wish we had that. But I also know it would make us more like dragons. Perhaps it's a good thing we don't.
There's very little that can be said. But I offer it anyway. My deepest condolences on your loss.
Well said. I am sorry to hear of your loss. As I am 62, I understand the looming shadow of mortality. And how our lives are the result of a billion decisions and circumstances. Our lives are our stories. We just don’t know how they will go. We must live them to find out.
Simply lovely--she must have been a very special person to deserve such a remembrance. (And your words about particularly have given me inspiration to structure part of an address I’ll give as the officiant at an upcoming wedding, so thank you for that.)
And with tears in my eyes I must say that this is the most beautiful tribute a brother could give another sibling. Death is the most difficult thing any of us will ever face. I have tears in my eyes remembering the trauma of losses I have faced. That you could write such a stunning tribute having just buried her two weeks ago is something I wish I could do. In January of 2022 my best friend at work slipped on a sheet of ice and slid under the wheels of my machine. I've tried to write a tribute to him, but it proves elusive. I thank you for this, feel the loss, and send love.
Mark, I’m sorry you (as well as all who loved her) are experiencing the loss from the death of your sister. Every grief is particular so I’d be foolish to say I know how you feel. But I know what it is to have lost my only sibling when he was 28 years. If you, too, feel like part of your heart was amputated and marvel that it can still beat at all, the rawness does mercifully subside in time. Whispering a prayer for you and your family. Thank you for highlighting the significance of particularity in regards to fiction, as well. Fiction is perhaps truer than non-fiction at times.
On The Particularity of Death, Life, and Fiction
I recently read a fantasy novel in which dragons have this one gift: When they are born, they see the moment of their death. And because of that, everything changes. They live with recklessness, knowing that the army beating down the door right now won't kill them. They can spend their retirement funds, because they know.
I wish we had that. But I also know it would make us more like dragons. Perhaps it's a good thing we don't.
There's very little that can be said. But I offer it anyway. My deepest condolences on your loss.
I'm sure your sister would be touched by your tribute to her. Losing someone is always difficult.
Well said. I am sorry to hear of your loss. As I am 62, I understand the looming shadow of mortality. And how our lives are the result of a billion decisions and circumstances. Our lives are our stories. We just don’t know how they will go. We must live them to find out.
Prayers for the onward path, Mark.
Simply lovely--she must have been a very special person to deserve such a remembrance. (And your words about particularly have given me inspiration to structure part of an address I’ll give as the officiant at an upcoming wedding, so thank you for that.)
So sorry, Mark.
And with tears in my eyes I must say that this is the most beautiful tribute a brother could give another sibling. Death is the most difficult thing any of us will ever face. I have tears in my eyes remembering the trauma of losses I have faced. That you could write such a stunning tribute having just buried her two weeks ago is something I wish I could do. In January of 2022 my best friend at work slipped on a sheet of ice and slid under the wheels of my machine. I've tried to write a tribute to him, but it proves elusive. I thank you for this, feel the loss, and send love.
A beautiful tribute and wise. So sorry for your loss.
How beautiful and true. Thinking of you and your sister. As Milan Kundera says “she is alive till the last person who remembers her is alive”. Big hug
Thank you. This was beautiful. Prayer for your sister, her family, and you.
Mark, I’m sorry you (as well as all who loved her) are experiencing the loss from the death of your sister. Every grief is particular so I’d be foolish to say I know how you feel. But I know what it is to have lost my only sibling when he was 28 years. If you, too, feel like part of your heart was amputated and marvel that it can still beat at all, the rawness does mercifully subside in time. Whispering a prayer for you and your family. Thank you for highlighting the significance of particularity in regards to fiction, as well. Fiction is perhaps truer than non-fiction at times.
I'm sorry for your loss, Mark. Thanks for sharing your thoughts and words.