My sister was 29 when she passed away. She had a rare, terminal disease called pulmonary hypertension. Diagnosed at 22, she was a retired professional ballerina who turned to nursing school for a career. The doctors told her there is no point in even APPLYING to school because her disease wouldn’t allow her to succeed. But she of course succeeded and in half the time that is to be expected for school to be a nurse. Fast forward to 2020: before her passing, she was completing her second to last semester to get her PhD to become a midwife. She worked 12 hour days at a hospital here in Dallas, went to school online, and lived her life to the fullest as a sister, wife, friend and my hero. I miss her so much it hurts. I’m trying to spread awareness of her disease and creating a blog to further my working through grief. Because of the pandemic, we saw her very few and far between because of her illness and the severity of how sick she could be if she contracted the virus. Just 12 hours before her passing, she took herself to the ER and I begged her to let me come see her and sit with her but she told me I couldn’t due to COVID. Only my mom and her husband were allowed in with her. The next time I ‘saw’ my sister… she was laying lifeless in a hospital bed and it was my turn to say goodbye. I’d give anything for one more day with her. That was my big sister. “Sissy” as I called her. I am so proud to be her little sister. But trying to wrap my mind around her not ever getting to be part of my wedding in my future the way I was involved at hers, or how she will never get to meet my kids someday is heart wrenching.
Fearfully & Wonderfully Brave 