The Wedding
We are standing in a camper waiting for the moment when she will open the creaky door and walk down the rusted metal step toward the gazebo. As always, it is just the two of us. We do not want to sit for fear of wrinkling our dresses. She looks stunning in her ivory crystal-encrusted wedding dress, beaded necklace, perfectly curled hair, and impeccably applied makeup. Yes, my sister is the most beautiful bride imaginable.
She sneaks a peek out to her groom: “He looks good” she says. I ask her if she is nervous. “Yes,” she replies as she smoothes her dress over her stomach. It took my mom and me a good deal of effort to get that dress zipped because Jonathon was just beginning to cause my sister’s belly to protrude. You cannot tell in her empire-waisted gown that she is pregnant, though. I try to tell her that she will be happy and that she loves him but she interrupts me. “I’m not nervous about marrying Richard but of falling on my face when I walk out there,” she says. This is typical Lisa: clumsy, self-conscious, and slightly awkward. I tell her she will do great. She has no doubts that she is doing the right thing. She loves Richard and they will be together forever.
The weather today is very humid but not sunny. It rained the night before so the insect repellant we sprayed on the gazebo will be washed away. I worry about a spider falling on me while I stand up at the makeshift altar but I know I will just pretend nothing has happened if such an event occurs. This is what you are expected to do as the maid of honor. I can hear the music that I selected at the last minute: classical flute. I play the flute and prepared a recording for the ceremony but the DJ wanted some music to be playing while the guests were getting seated. Thank God I had this CD in my car. I smell the undeniable scent of the lake that we have lived near for 15 years.
It seemed right that she would get married here, even if my mom and I tried to convince her not to. Although it was sort of run down and spider-infested, Lisa wanted to get married here because Richard thought it was nice, and it was right by the reception hall. In any event, the day turned out great. She did not fall down the aisle and I think everyone thoroughly enjoyed themselves.
The Nightmare
Three days later, she died, taking the baby’s life as well. She was 23. She died of a heart arrhythmia. No, she did not have any previous health issues. Yes, it was terrible for my parents and for her husband but you know what? It was terrible for me too. No one seems to get that. While our relationship was similar to most siblings’ in that we fought a lot, she was still my best friend. We shared our childhood. We were there for each other when our parents divorced, when our grandparents died, and when boys broke our hearts. We told each other things we would never tell our parents. My sister is so much a part of my identity that I feel like I have lost not only a piece of my heart but a piece of every cell in my body.
What it Means
Although the entire wedding was a significant event in our relationship, I remember the mundane details of a few minutes in a pop-up camper the most because they are the last moments Lisa and I would ever spend alone together. They were the last moments in which the world made sense.
After a loss, we hold onto memories that would otherwise just float into our minds and out again. These moments in time usually do not hold much significance because we assume we will have more memories just like them. However, when these are the only moments you have left you cherish them like an alcoholic cherishes his liquor.
There is a song by The Band Perry called “If I Die Young.” It speaks to me when it says “funny when you’re dead how people start listening.” I wish I would have written down everything she said, or better yet recorded it. I wish I would have told her I loved her more often and how much she meant to me. Yet, you do not think about these things when you are caught up in your own life. Now I scour my mind to remember everything I can about her. I cherish simple, seemingly unimportant memories because now they are all I have.
[841 words]
