Soul Sisters

I have just received word that my cousin and soul sister has joined ranks with those of us who are bereaved. My heart aches for her. She had finally met someone with whom she admired and adored. We all know how precious that is.

I do not know details other than that they were in Greece and he drowned and she is in the hospital but getting out tomorrow. I know very little about him, other than they called him “Pep,” and based on Facebook comments, seemed to be a gentleman, an artist, a man with a sense of humour. I wish I had met him, because she is the kind of person that attracts the genuine article. She is the girl that rescues ravens from the side of the road, or giant turtles. I envied her her very own horse when we were growing up. In her sweet house near Heathrow airport in London, were I have spent many hours, there is always a menagerie – dogs, cats, goats, bunnies. She works as an art therapist at the prison near the airport. She is loved by all. But it has not been an easy road that she has traveled. And now she has fallen into that deep ravine we all know so well.

I am surprised to be sitting here wondering why? Why her? Why him? Things I have thought only in glimpses about my own situation, questions I rarely linger upon. I don’t suggest we are soul sisters lightly. We both felt it since we first met as kids. Arron adored her as she adored him. She was Harley’s beloved for a few months while we were renovating our house in London, and honestly I don’t think Harley ever forgave me for taking her back. And now our sisterhood delves another notch deeper.

I don’t know this man Pep, but like to think that Arron is helping him, in some small way. I think Arron guards over Kirsty as he does me. Silly perhaps. Or not. I wonder again. Why? What is this secret conspiracy of taking so many great people at such young ages, leaving those of us left behind to soldier on, be admired for strength we often don’t feel.

My cousin will survive, as we all have. She will marvel at this awful, wonderful journey and the gifts it provides, gifts she will learn to curse and cherish at once. My hand is already out, ready to begin pulling her up the steep ravine walls, whenever she is ready.

But today, my tears are for my soul sister, in so many ways.

4 Comments

  1. Debbie Thomas August 31, 2010 at 9:14 pm

    I am so sorry for your soul sister’s loss. Thank goodness she has you waiting, ready to help her up the steep ravine when she’s ready.

  2. Theo Nestor August 31, 2010 at 9:28 pm

    That is so sad.

    “Admired for strength we don’t often feel”–wonderful line I’m sure many will relate to.

  3. Cathy September 1, 2010 at 8:10 pm

    So eloquent, even in your sorrow.
    I’m really really sorry for her. Not the club she wanted to join.

  4. megan September 2, 2010 at 4:45 pm

    my love drowned 59 1/2 weeks ago. I wouldn’t have taken any help or an ear from someone I didn’t know back then, but if your sister would like to connect with someone who was been in that water, you can leave me a comment on my blog. There is also the drowning support network – unfortunately, we have had a lot of new widows recently.
    xo

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