*** I wrote this several months ago. Now that I’m telling my sister’s story, it feels like I need to post this to understand the events that followed***

It didn’t happen all at once. It was a slow progression so that by the time it happened I didn’t realize it was happening. I didn’t recognize it until it was too late. Even though to look back now, it’s so obvious.

We used to talk everyday on my way home from work. I would call her and tell her about my day, my baby, the kids I taught, anything really. Just chatting. She was always on my side, in my corner.

The last time she came to visit my oldest son was six months old. It was Easter. Nothing in particular stood out with that visit. Things seemed as “normal” as they always were with a few exceptions that aren’t really worth mentioning.

We bought a new house when my oldest was about eight months old. We moved in and I couldn’t wait to show her. I asked her to come and help me decorate and paint. Excuse after frustrating excuse came as to why she couldn’t visit. Phone calls went unanswered. She stopped returning them and we spoke maybe twice a month. Mostly I spoke. She didn’t ask about me, my husband, or our child. My second son was born and still no visit from her. Don’t grandmas want to know their grandkids?  I found out I was expecting our daughter around the same time her cancer started getting bad. Before I knew it, she wasn’t returning any of my calls. When she did call the calls were angry and confusing. Often she would make things up and call me names. I pretended it was the cancer. After all, I didn’t live there. So my suspicions couldn’t be right.

By the time she died she had done many, many things that hurt me. She claimed over and over that she didn’t and that the things she had done never happened. To protect myself and my family I had to cut off communication with her. Now in retrospect and after what I saw this last week with my sister, maybe she didn’t remember doing them.

When a family member called to tell me she was gone I asked. I took a deep breath and asked if there was an addiction involved. It relieved some of the pain to know chemicals were involved in her behavior. But it didn’t change that I was orphaned.

This was my second experience with addiction.