THE IRONY

i started this blog some time ago to write stuff down because it was all to much in my head. i didn't know what i wanted to write so just wrote. my sister who has gone was a writer she wrote so much. she has novels and poetry in abundance which i am yet to read because they were going to be published and she was writing them and completing them. she was very encouraging about me writing and told me to just write.
the irony of this blog is that at first i wrote so much shit about how terrible my life was. about my domestic life. i never wrote about her illness because i didn't want o give it a voice to encourage it to exist. i denied in many ways that she even was ill so that it might go away.
in my whole year of counselling my sorrows were so strong but i only broke down about my sister when she entered 'critical care' after her bone marrow transplant and all i could see when i saw life was a tombstone.
then she recovered from that and hope sprung again.
then she really did go.
the hope slipped away with her. and now i write this blog and have so much to say. and its so cruelly ironic that my very sister is the subject of my blog. and yet she is not here with us right here next to me where i want her to be. i try to let warmth cover me imagining she's at my side and even think maybe she is.