Remembering My Sister Sara

Sara Graceanna is named in memory of my sister Sara who left this life before she could hold her long awaited niece. How happy she would be to know her and laugh and play with her. I know they would've been quite a pair. Although they are certainly two very different people, they share more than just a name. Gracie has that same joy for life that poured out of Sara and affected everyone around her. She has a sense of adventure and determination to conquer whatever crosses her path much like Sara. I always admired these traits in my sister. And, she like Sara is a bit on the dramatic side. Ask my husband and he thinks this is a trait that all the ladies in my family enjoy.

Two days ago Sara would've turned 30 and we would've celebrated in grand measure, but that day we remembered her for the beautiful life she led and the amazing person she was. I will always have a sadness that my little Sara Graceanna will not know her Auntie Sara here on this earth, but I look forward to that moment they will meet.

For now, I share as much as I can about my little sister with my daughter and she already loves her. July 8th is a rainy day. As we drive to the cemetary to take a fresh bouquet of daisies and roses, Gracie sits quietly in the back seat holding the flowers and pensively staring out her window.
I ask her what she is thinking about.
"I just thinking about Auntie Sara. I miss her. I wish I could see her....Do you miss her, Mommy?"
"Very much, love, very much."
"Let's go to heaven and see her...I think we should go be with her."
I don't know what to say except that we will someday.
"I am sad she is not here, Mommy."
I choke back tears as we near the hill where Nathaniel and Sara rest. We climb out of the car and she asks questions about death and heaven and all the tough ones that are hard to explain. We do our usual routine and Gracie places the fresh flowers in the vase. We hold hands and pray to end our little time on the hill.

The rain returns just as we turn and walk back to the car. We arrive home in a short trip that seems like an eternity of questions trying to understand something adults rarely come to grips with. Then, we are home. We talk about Aunt Sara's laugh, her smile, the way she danced when she walked and I look into the eyes of my daughter who genuinely wants to know all she can about the Aunt she has never met. And me, I just try my best to share all the wonderful details with her and my heart is grateful, grateful that my daughter longs to know my sister and that those sparkling eyes that my sister Sara looked up at me with as I shared something she longed to know are so much like the inquisitive sparkling eyes that are looking at me now. What a little gift this moment is. I feel so close to my sister this day, unexpectedly through the eyes of my daughter.