Member-only story
Who Are You Missing?
Oh, the cruelty of a virus that keeps us apart.
My “baby” sister. I love her with all my heart. Ten years younger than me and my hero.
When our parents were diagnosed with Stage 4 Lung Cancer, less than two months before my own breast cancer diagnosis, my sister moved them into her home and basically gave up her life to care for them.
I could never have done what she did. Never.
Our parents died nine months later, in side-by-side beds in a hospice room.
I haven’t seen my sister, Diane, in weeks and I miss her terribly. Viscerally. And I miss her husband and kids — my two wonderful nephews and my niece, their youngest.
Diane works as a hiring manager at a large, upscale grocery chain and, to the best of my knowledge, they’re not yet required to wear masks. Because of this, I worry about her every day.
When the shit started hitting the fan, I thought that I’d be able to visit her, at her home at least. But now, that makes about as much sense as having a failed reality TV star in the White House.
My sister comes into contact with who-knows-how-many people a day. It would be irresponsible of me to hang with her for an hour or two and risk my catching something and bringing it home to my husband. And she…
