My Sister was 38 when she was shot and killed
In 1989 my sister Marji was living with me and my son. I drove her crazy because she thrived on chaos while I preferred things peaceful and quiet. She loved to go, go, go and I would rather sit and read a book. Though we were very different she was my inspiration, my idol, my mother, my mentor, my sister, and most importantly my best friend.
I still see her face in my mind that morning on August 14, 1989. I opened her bedroom door to tell her to get up, I was leaving for work. She popped up her head to look at me then planted her face back in the pillow. That was the last time I saw her alive.
For no apparent reason while robbing the bank she worked for the robber shot her. It was not an accident as he later claimed, he had no remorse for what he had done. His only pity was for himself, that he had been caught and could not spend the money he took.
I am told that time heals all pain and I admit it isn't as big a hole in my insides as there once was. But I don't believe a person ever gets over the loss of a sister. I miss her every single day and will continue to miss her till the day I die.