Today my sister would have turned 55.
I lit a candle in remembrance of her and thought about what I know of her life: She was the oldest child in a family that was not always the happiest of families (although most of that happened before I was born and came to them as a foster child, so I have to go with what little my other siblings told me, and I stopped asking some time ago).
We were several years apart in age, and she moved out when I was still a child.
She was bad with money, but she loved to be generous and give people gifts. She also loved to dream about being wealthy, and we would watch cheesy soap operas together when she still lived at home. She was good with make-up and other beauty stuff, which makes me think of her whenever I glam up or have my nails done.
She collected teddy bears and anything with guardian angels on it, but she managed not to go overboard with hoarding the stuff (as other family members do).
She also was very sick for a very long time, but she never gave up, even when the boyfriend she lived with dumped her (again, I do not know the details, so no judgement from my side). She managed to move into a pretty little flat with a small patio. She loved children, and for some time she worked with a toddler group, a pursuit she liked to talk about when she phoned.
I don’t know how to write down the other things I feel, and I am not sure that if I could, I should.
So I’ll end this post with stating the fact that she will be remembered.