My sisters return to their homes in England and Australia tomorrow.

The twelve days have gone past swiftly. I’m already missing them. In fact, I’ve been thinking of tomorrow since last Tuesday. It will be heartbreaking saying goodbye.

As my mum used to say, ‘If you come, you have to go.’ Particularly because all her daughters, bar me, have lived overseas for more than half their adult lives.

Rightly or wrongly, I feel it’s a lot harder for the visited, that’s me, than the visitors, my sisters, when it comes to goodbyes. Why? Because the visitors go back to their families, who are eagerly awaiting them. While for the visited, its status quo. It’s back to the routine minus the added company, and different emotions and activities experienced during the visit.

Imagined or otherwise, my mum’s condo always felt quieter and lonelier after each visit. Also, she and I suffered the not-nice anticipation of flight day, and worse yet, the actual leaving day, each time, a daughter/sister visited. At times, it was four tearful goodbyes in a year. To be fair, it was also four happy welcomes. Which is why I prefer to be part of the welcome wagon, and not the departing one.

Anyways, the other thing that befuddles me is the inexplicable feelings of attachment and longing that I used to build-up, and have built-up in this brief less than a fortnight. The thing is I don’t see my sisters often. If I’m lucky, they come over once a year. Most times, visits might happen over a few years. Unlike sister number 3, who visited annually without fail.

So, most of my communication with my sisters is via text and telephone calls. Naturally, I understand it’s not always easy arranging holidays and trips particularly as they are a little older now, and have their fair share of ailments to deal with. Also, they have families – husband, children and grandchildren – and responsibilities. Plus, costs and long-haul flights to navigate.

And yet, when they are physically present and I spend time with them, I get emotional and forlorn when they leave. Much more so this time around.  

Like I said I’m thinking about tomorrow. I will miss their company, the togetherness, the camaraderie. For instance, I will miss sitting around the dinner table at their Airbnb apartment just talking, asking questions and reminiscing into the wee hours of the night. Waking up, not really, as that would imply we slept during the night, and continuing our discussions in our pyjamas, while having breakfast the next morning. Realising, albeit slowly, that we had abandoned showering, praying and everything in our usual morning sequence. And, chuckling at our indifference😊.

The focus was obviously sister number 3. We had questions. Questions that are still not answered. Those that have some semblance of answers cannot be understood, not fully anyway. We are trying to find meaning and closure. We cannot make sense of the decisions she made, and what actually happened during her last days. Truthfully, I think we are still clutching at straws.

That said, being together has given us some level of comfort, and the familial bond between us and with sister number 3, has made this very heart wrenching situation, not less painful, but a little more tolerable. That feeling of being in the trenches together; that collective, empathetic levels of emotion, understanding and intensity have helped somewhat in addressing this should-not-have-happened tragedy.

We shared many stories about our sister. Much of them were about how thoughtful, generous and supportive she always was. Also, how funny, witty, and at times, weird and even crazy, she was. There was laughter. There were realisations and learnings that we took on board; that will hopefully help us.

Sister number 3 was a sharer. With me, she related general and not-so-general information quite freely about herself, the family and outside the family. I knew her schedule – swimming, walking, gardening, Befrienders’ lunches, her former colleagues, her current friends, and hospital appointments, which were mostly for brother-in-law number 3. Except of course about her ovarian cysts and her other medical conditions. Our daily conversations covered quite wide-ranging subjects and subject. I miss her and I miss that with her.  

Coming back to tomorrow. I tell myself not to be silly and sad as my siblings and I have had a meaningful time together. Nevertheless, I am going to miss my sisters too much.

Being together, I think, has helped us find some solace, and inch forward, somewhat. I say somewhat because even when we are together, I/we get teary as sister number 3 is palpably not with us. She – the loudest, the noisiest, and the most caring, generous and loving amongst us – will eternally be absent in our lives.

And, we have to deal with it and live with it, in our own way.