You were my strength when I was weak
You were my voice when I couldn’t speak
I lost my will you gave it back to me
You saw the best there was in me…
What feels like a long time ago, I sat stage right in a vista class showroom watching the final night of the production cast, and my Sister came out from her customary place back stage and rested her hand on my shoulder and said without words how much she was going to miss me. I didn’t look at her, just reached back and placed my hand over hers, because if I looked at her I knew I would cry.
It would be nearly two years before I would see her again. And when I did, everything would change.
My Sister and I have since taken different paths, hers led to happiness away from ships, and – much to my sorrow and sometime confusion – away from me, but I never forgot that silent moment of farewell. And as I sat watching the show last night, in the same seat (all the showrooms from ship to ship are identical) I still looked to the right by habit, looking for someone who wasn’t there, and who probably never will be again.
She was the Sister who came to my life late, and walked out of my life earlier than either of us expected…
We’ll be friends forever right?
Right!
Forever? That’s a long long time chil’ and time…well she has a way of changin’ things…
Sometimes people, no matter how close, simply separate once their purpose in each other’s life has been fulfilled – Saerwan gave me a great gift, I like to think that I returned it in kind, at least partially, and I wouldn’t be the same had I not known her. It hurt a great deal at first, losing a Family member is never easy, the Pack is small, and we’re protective of our connections…but these kinds of things lessen over time, and I think of her now like I do of a fond childhood friend, with affection and kindness, and hope that – wherever her life takes her – she ends up as happy as she deserves to be. I hope that, wherever she is, she knows that I still miss her.
And I’m glad that, whatever may have happened afterwards, our final memories – at least on my part – are good ones. They carry with them the smell of Dominica sunshine and thundering waterfalls and strawberry shampoo and tears that we didn’t even intend to shed, and conversations that maybe we shouldn’t have had, but perhaps we needed to…
But no matter where I go, or where I end up, or how far apart life takes us, I often wonder if I will ever be able to sit stage right of a vista class show room, and not remember the weight of her hand on my shoulder…