My Sister

So I have this netbook and I’ve had it for quite some time. She and I have gone through many cyber hours together and I don’t want to part with her. About a year ago, however, she started acting all hot-mess crazy on me and didn’t want me to do things online that is pertinent to my every day life (i.e. check email, Facebook stalk and of course, blog). I contemplated selling her for parts, making her a door stop or, on the best of days, taking a sledge hammer to her. I finally decided to reset her to factory settings to see if that will maybe fix her so that I don’t have to end her life so soon. I did last night, and by some miracle she actually wants to work.

In telling that rather long, drawn-out story, I come to my point: once I got her booted up and reset, I started the long process of going through my email. I have email backed up from 2007, and it took forever to go through. While sifting through and organizing my inbox, I ran across a couple of emails between my late sister and I. Now, I try my damndest not to get emotional about her. Actually, for the past 4 years I’ve built this barrier where I don’t. I hate crying; I hate crying in front of people. I look at crying as a sign of weakness and I am not weak. But as I was reading the emails, it took me so off guard that I broke down. I’m not just talking crying. Sobbing. I let my mind go there for a split second, and I lost all control. The “what ifs” and “maybe if I had done (such and such), things would have ended differently” and “if only I’d had more time with her, this could have happened”. Now, anyone who knows me well knows that I didn’t have the greatest relationship with my sister. She was quite a bit older than I , and lived several states away. We didn’t talk often, mostly through emails as I got older. So much of that time is now lost, and I can’t help but wonder where our relationship would have gone had I had more time with her.
In conclusion, it is no secret that I consider cancer a cold hearted bitch. A thief in the night, stealing people away before their time. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy, and to have seen her struggle without complaint for 12 years was so hard. I’m not denying she is in a better place, but I’m selfish.  I wasn’t ready to let her go. After 4 years, I am still not ready to let her go.