Weakened Angel

My sister, dead three months on the 28th, is gone forever. She isn't coming back, no matter what I think or wish or scream at God that it isn't fair. Not fair for her that is, not me or us or even her myriad friends. It's not fair that she never got to go to Ireland, or Rome or Austria and Germany. It's not fair that she won't be able to visit thrift stores in search of some perfect oddity for the house. Not fair that she will never read any of the thousand books she collected for this special time when she would have time. None of it is fair for her. None of it. People try to help but no one can bear this burden unless they've been through it with you like my other sisters and I did. When I was in high school a classmate wrote a poem about those friends who "just stand by" and I still remember most of it. At times like this, I think that's what friends do if they can do nothing else. Sometimes just knowing someone is standing by should you need a good cry or a talking to, or just to stand in the background shadows like some weakened angel waiting to be called upon. Sometimes you don't have to say anything, write anything or do anything. You just stand by like that angel waiting...