As I stand there looking down at her frail and drawn I think of her as she was.
As she was before the cancer took her health.
As she was before the long battle with sickness took her mind.
As she was when she was my sister.
I’ll think of her as she was when I was small.
I’ll think of her as a happy, joyful woman who often laughed.
I’ll think of her as the sister who played games.
I’ll think of her as a smart woman with courage to face great troubles.
As I watch from beside the bed as she looks on family like strangers and I weep for what was lost and pray she soon finds peace.
As I watch my sister die I’ll choose to remember her not as this but as she was.