Tricia Times



While meditating, a picture of my sister, Maryann, flashed across my gaze. Maryann had fallen from a car going 60 mpr when she was 4 years old. As a result of the accident she became brain-damaged and her eyes crossed. She was in a coma for 31 days and had to learn to walk and speak all over again. She was a constant source of anguish to my parents, who decided she would be the scapegoat for all of their problems. She rarely attended school and by the 8th grade she was expelled never to return to any formal education or home schooling. She began to drink a lot of alcohol at an early age which progressed to any and every type of drug. She was in and out of mental institutions as well as prison cells. She was the eldest child of seven and abused all of her younger siblings both physically and mentally. Just the same I loved her. None of my brothers or sisters shared my feelings for Maryann. As a matter of fact when she died, we were asked at her burial if anyone would like to say anything to her before she was lowered into the ground. My brothers shook their heads no, while my twin sister said that since she was unable to love Maryann in life that maybe God could love her for her. I said that I loved Maryann and would miss her terribly as she was very dear to me, then broke down sobbing. Why did I love this sister who had been cruel to me in so many ways especially when I did well or excelled in form of art, music, dance, academics or athletics?

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