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A Beautiful Story

I’ve done a lot of caregiving with my family. My sister, a year and a half younger than me, passed away from cancer after a five-year struggle. During that time, she was brave and passionate about surviving, even traveling to Central America to try early stem cell treatments. Her other passion was to participate in the cancer survivors network. She was a generous caregiver to other patients, handing out knitted hats my mother made and joining them in support groups. However, she suffered the same fate as my grandma, but for different reasons. As an AA member, she earned her 20-year sobriety badge and would not take any medication for pain. It’s been my experience that getting ahead of the pain is so important, and while I respected her wishes, I despised seeing and feeling her suffer until the end of her life. My sister was a cute baby and a beautiful woman. She moved from New York to the San Francisco Bay Area, close to me. As an accomplished real estate broker, she made friends quickly, and she would go to the soup kitchen on holidays with her partner and serve the poor and hungry. She was generous to a fault and loved people and animals. As siblings often do, when they are close in age, we knew how to love intensely and how to get into it! Now, years later, all I remember are the beautiful and fun times we had together. I miss her a lot.

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