Anyone that had lost a sibling would know that aching, empty spot they leave. And maybe the only thing you can fill that with are piles of blooming flowers.
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It all began four months ago. Anna's twenty-sixth birthday; the seventeenth of March. She was five months pregnant. Things were getting exciting, as in feeling-the-bump and guess-the-gender sort of exciting. I was wearing the most uncomfortable dress made in history, complete with a hairstyle that was giving me a facelift.
We were at a family birthday dinner (like we do for every birthday), but don't get me wrong, we had a huge (fun) family, so our get-together dinners were always enjoyable.
Anna sat at the very head of the table next to Jayden, smothered in attention (like it should be on your birthday) but she didn't have her blonde-haired-blue-eyed-perfect-teeth smile. It was like she wasn't quite present with everyone, like the chatter just surrounded her. And when mum came out with her golden platters of food, Anna didn't eat, she muttered thank you and sat staring at the table. But she excused herself halfway through the meal and I was so worried I practically stumbled out of my seat to follow her.
And there she stood. Amongst the marble-top counters, in the empty kitchen facing the window. The muffled voices from outside being left out. Her hands gently wrapped around her stomach. She turned to face me with her stone cold eyes and her huge earrings swayed back and forth. She was always the more beautiful sister.
"You know how I'd been sick lately and we both thought it was because I was pregnant?" Her voice was fading. I nodd. Of course I remembered, we were all so worried; she wasn't eating, she wasn't sleeping and she wouldn't stop throwing up. "I went to see doctor June on Tuesday and..." she stumbled and it's so difficult to feel even slightly hopeful. It was her eyes, like pools of icy cold water. "Tara, that's not why I was sick." I interlaced my fingers between her hands with all the courage I had. "It's cancer," and that was when tears streamed like raindrops gently down her cheeks. I buried my face into her long curled hair and felt her bump between us.
"Oh, Anna...I can't...you can't..." My voice is stuck inside my throat. But I did't have any words for her anyway. No words that could heal her. So we stood there, in the empty kitchen, me in my big sister's arms, away from all the noise outside.
