Farewell, Bec

Today was probably the hardest day in all our lives. Bec passed away two and a half weeks ago now, after a brave and tumultuous six months, since her cancer re-diagnosis.  We have already begun to grieve and say goodbye, but a funeral always feels like the real end. It has felt a long time coming. It has been a tough six months for us all, as a family, and we want to thank anyone who has done or said any small thing to ease our burden on this difficult journey.

Below is a photo I love and a poem I wrote for the funeral. I love this photo. There is so much more I could say, and I probably will, as time goes on, but this is all I can manage for now. The photo was taken on an evening in a week when it was all getting on top of Bec. It was a Sunday night.  While Martin bathed the children, we talked and talked and cried and cried. We talked about heaven and dying, her fears of being forgotten, my promise never to ever let that happen.  I told her I would still be hoping and praying for a different outcome, right to the end and I was.  I hope my words brought her some comfort.  Then the children’s bath was over and Rose came down and put some plastic glasses on Arthur and we laughed and laughed.  The ordinary and precious, triumphing over the tragic for a moment.  We will hold onto many more of these moments to carry us through.

I love the photo, beyond words, because it is Bec with her babies, looking natural and ordinary - a Mummy, laughing, red-faced, through the tears.  Bec – and all of us – enjoying a precious, funny moment, despite the shadows that loomed.

Here is my tribute.  She leaves a gaping hole.

                 Sisters

I can’t remember life without a sister.

She just appeared, when I was two,

And I woke, confused,

On a January morning,

Hours later, delivering the infamous toddler line:

“When is the baby going home, Mummy?”

The bond grew,

Cemented by ordinary moments, childhood fun.

Saturday mornings with Dad –

Chaos reigned!

Clothes-horse tents and make-shift shelters,

All through the house;

Frantic tidying before Mum came home.

Arguments –

Dolls and ‘My Little Ponies’ – again?!

Can’t we play a board game now?!

Camping holidays,

Picking blackberries in the woods.

Sharing bunk beds,

Chatting and falling asleep to the sound of the other’s gentle snores.

Then older

And secrets and boyfriends and friends.

Her, home alone,

While I went to study,

Sending her postcards, which she kept longer than I knew.

Sisters apart,

Separate,

But with a love that binds.

Each of us, bursting with pride,

As bridesmaids in different colours,

At weddings five years apart.

Both staying up

Through tiring nights and drawn-out days,

Awaiting the news of beautiful babies born.

And hugging and crying and holding each other,

In times when reality hit

And our lives took paths

We didn’t plan.

There should be more.

We should be looking forward –

To new schools as our children grow,

To bemoaning turning forty,

Shopping for clothes

That fit our aging frames,

Laughing at wrinkles

And exchanging ideas

About recipes and holiday plans.

Later, weddings and grandchildren.

This will not be our experience now.

I will miss the ordinary, precious moments,

Just being and chatting and laughing.

I will miss the special, memorable moments,

Birthdays, Christmases, days out.

I will miss being next to you,

In the moments we will now never have.

But I will hold you in my heart,

Imagining you with us,

Imagining your presence, your voice.

I will look at photos

With sadness and gladness,

Tears in my eyes for what’s lost,

But joy in my heart,

As I remember, with gratitude,

All that you were.

I had a sister.

The past tense hurts.

I’m thankful for all we’ve been

And all we’ve seen

And all we’ve done

And all you’ve left behind.

And I know, one day,

When I become past tense too,

We’ll be together again.

And we’ll sit by a crystal sea,

Listening to the waves

Lap gently on the shore,

And we’ll smile and hug

And catch up for all eternity.

And the pain and longing and loss

Will feel like a hiccup in history.

But, for now, I ache and long

And take stumbling steps

And trust God

To heal the hurt

And piece my heart back together

And fill it with thankfulness

For all you were

And all you’ll continue to be.

Sisters apart,

Separate,

But with a love that binds,

Forever.