a letter to my sister Soni
Last night I dreamt of you. We were young and living at home and sitting around a circular table in Portugal somewhere. You were dipping your bread into olive oil and salt and licking your fingers and really enjoying a dish as we sat in the sunshine-such a familiar scene and we must have done this hundreds of times in our life together. We talked about Helen and you said you were not coping very well in having lost her and that you couldn't live without her and I told you to go to her and not worry about me because we would always be bound by love and I'd join you again somewhere safe and warm when I was ready and had done what I needed to do in this life. You smiled and squeezed my cheek and said 'a-oo, che brava sorella mia' and that beautiful bold smile left my world again. Where are you now? If you could give me a sign from time to time that you are ok and you are there and think of me, I'll be ok to keep doing what I'm doing, to keep living, to keep powering on, knowing that someday when I've lived my life to the full as you did, we'll be together again. Protected in life and death, what a wonderful feeling. It cuts through the pain and allows me to keep on moving and keep on loving.
