Dear Janie, I Miss You

Twenty five years ago today, my life changed forever.  It's the day I grew up.  Twenty five years ago today my sister died.  She was shot and killed by my tenant's son.  Dad had died five weeks earlier. Mom had died almost two years earlier.  My dad's tenant was watching Jane after I had returned to work on second shift, after being home for three weeks. Michael kept an eye on Jane from when I had to leave and his mother got home from work, about an hour and a half.  Jane was mentally challenged, but high functioning.  I had to go back to work but couldn't leave her alone because I didn't trust her with the stove.   She was only 26 and I was 25 at the time.   

For some reason, I'm thinking about her a lot more on this day than I have on past anniversaries.  Maybe because it's the quarter century and about the same amount of years as her life.  I don't know.  A day rarely goes by that I don't think of her, remember something about her, and smile to myself.  It was mostly Mom and I who took care of her with Dad there sometimes. Our bond was so close that when she died, it felt like not only my sister being ripped from my life, but, in some ways almost like my child. 

I know she is smiling down on me, along with my parents, and is at peace.  Janie, I miss you and love you always.