My sister and I could talk a mile a minute or we could enjoy complete quiet by reading books together, all was done in companionship. Like the fit of an old bedroom slipper that you will never throw away because it just feels so you! When we didn't have anything to talk about we re-lived our teenage years and laughed until we cried. Our favorite past time was hiring a couple of comedies from the local video store, buying a whole bunch of junk food that we knew we were NOT going to just sample. We were going to dig in complaining about the weight we'd gain, we'd scarf it down while howling at comedies, my husband and her fiance simply looking on bemused yet understanding. The look said 'ITS BEEN A TOUGH WEEK, POOR THINGS. LET THEM LET IT AAALLLL OUT!'

Though my mum and dad tried to instill in us a sense of being a lady, it simply remained a type of behavior to us, never a part of our personalities. My sister and I laughed all the time, about everything, at each other...but never at others. That was something we detested, we never could stand watching others being mocked and she usually got herself into a lot of trouble taking somebody's side.

She loved putting make-up on me and doing my hair. She always laughed and said that growing up she didn't have a doll. Once when she was going through a serious state of depression, she offered to trim my hair for me. We were at my place and I quietly sat there and patiently waited for her to finish. When more than half an hour had passed I asked her if she was done, she tells me not yet, she's layering my hair for me. You know the way they do at the salon, the whole feathered look thing? I told her that wasn't necessary, I just needed a trim. She told me if I wanted her to stop, I was going to look like I'd escaped from a looney bin because she'd already started and had to finish.

I was horrified, but I trusted my sister. My husband finished work and came home, looked at me and then quickly fixed his eyes straight on the door to our bedroom and made a beeline for it. By then, I'd had enough, she was hungry and he was laughing his butt off in the bathroom. 

What a fiasco. The next day she had the audacity to take me to the library... with me looking like somebody had tried to scalp me and had failed.

I stood at the checkout line, put her red book bag over my head and refused to take it off. The lady at the counter laughed so hard, I cried so hard because I couldn't take off the bag, my sister laughed the hardest.  I went home and hid my scissors away. Every time she offered to trim my hair, I always changed the topic. I never had the heart to tell my sister that though she did great with a pair of surgical scissors as a nurse, she was never going to be a hairdresser. 

Now I don't have this liveliness anymore. It's gone. I work everyday...just work. I don't think I can stand the silence anymore, she was always singing or talking or yelling. She was a vocal person and loved sound.

She had a Sha Pei named Suki. They used to compete with one another to see who was the loudest...the chaos! 

I can do life on my own, it's going to be tough but I can do it. It just sucks to be alive without her to add the color and the sound. Can you call that living? I think that I'm involved with the mechanics of everyday living but I'm not actually alive on the inside. Somethings gone. It cannot be replaced. 

I'm tired and I want my sister.