I believe in my sister
I believe no one in the world but my sister
What she says is true
Even if the world were to fall apart
My sister would never tell a lie……
Nineteen ninety-nine, my sister died.
My youngest, she was only forty-five.
Lord, I could not believe you took her away from us.
But I did not ask why.
Her and my aunt’s lives were so interwined: My sister was born on her name’s day, on her birthday she died. Blue eyes and laughing mouth: they were the prettiest of siblings. They were both everyones favourite aunts. Trips to the zoo, shopping, teatimes, fashion, little trip to the country. Kids grew up to love them both. Children? No, just the nieces and nephews!
We shared everything growing up: hand-me-down sweaters, skis, skates, half an apple, packing up for my wedding. When she was seventeen she actually traveled to Germany to help me pack. She spoke then nothing else but Finnish, and made that trip alone. She danced at my wedding; she never had one of her own. Boyfriends? Yes, mysterious and strange!
We shared stories. She helped me with children, when they were young. Just a phone call and she was over. We shared a bottle of wine: Rio ja Tinto? Rioja Tinto, of course. She traveled, France, Italy. New York.
Lord, I pray,
When my time comes, please take me like you took her.
In the festive mood, in the Sunday clothes. Suddenly.
What secrets she kept!