5 years ago I got a phone call at 11 pm. I looked at my called ID and ti was from Brazil. I knew what late phone calls from home meant, but I was not ready to hear what my dad told me crying. My baby sister and the young age of 22 had just become a widow. Her young, handsome, loving husband of 10 month, the first love of her life had tragically died in a motorcycle accident. To make matters worse my mother was here with me. I could hear her screaming in the background, my heart broken in a million tiny pieces for her. I felt numb, powerless. I decided not to tell my mom until the morning. I wanted her to have one last normal night of sleep before she realized that her baby daughter was facing the unthinkable miles and miles way. I arranged flights for both of us , called family members to go and help my poor dad all alone with my sister. The first time I saw my sister when I got home whas something i will never forget. Her pain was so evident, so overwhelming , so raw. I spend days taking care of her. She grieved in a way I had never seem before. She let herself go, she became delirious with pain, coming in and out of conscious, calling his name, bagging him to come back. Her fragile body and heart just could not take it. After a few weeks there I had to come back and left my sister there at the care of my parents. On my way home I cried hurting for her, felling so guilty that I had a husband to come back to and she didn't. For the longest time I could not bare the thought that I had my husband with me and she didn't. It was so unfair. We spoke often, her recovery was not easy, I felt powerless being so far way. Time passed and she seemed like herself again, even though she was forever changed, she was finding a way to be happy again. Love knocked at her door for the second time 2 years later. As she started getting happy again, I feel deep into the abyss called infertility. I got detached, I avoided calling home. I was living my own sadness , grieving the loss of my first pregnancy, lost in the cycles that came and went. She got married again with a great man, a childhood friend. My heart rejoiced for her. I got pregnant one year after. We were both happy again. Than my heart was broken in a million pieces . As she grew closer to her husband and, mine grew apart from me. As her wounds were healing, mine were emerging. She hurted for me, felt bad that she had found love again and I had lost mine... Now , as I walk through this difficult path of healing and new beginnings, my baby sister just gave the greatest joy to let me know that she is expecting her first baby. God willing, next time I go to Brazil in Dec we will be celebrating life, not mourning death. She will meet her niece for the first time and I will touching her growing belly. I am so happy for her. I talked to her, she was giggling with happiness, it took her only one month to get pregnant, even though she has severe SOP (God know how much I prayed for her to be spare of infertility_). She was bubbly like my baby sis that I remember. Like I haven't heard her in 5 years. I am grateful that time healed her pain and hopeful that it will heal mine too.
Time, time, time, time
Time won't leave me as I am
