someone’s little sister

i don’t visit my family in california often enough. i wish that weren’t the case. every time i do visit, i discover new tidbits from my dad’s past – things that have no doubt molded him into who he is today.

something i’ve known for quite some time now, is that i am someone’s little sister.

two years before i was born, my mom had a stillbirth. i have known women who have miscarried, and i realize it’s an extremely unfortunate and upsetting event, but whenever i think of the pain my parents must have gone through…
she carried this child for 9 months, and up until his birth day, all was fine. i remember she told me once that on the morning of her c-section, she felt like something was wrong.

i often wonder what it would have been like to have an older brother.
would we have been close? would we have played video games? freeze tag? sports? would he have been the black sheep? the weirdo of the bunch? cool? would he have a family now – kids? a dog [or 2 or 3]? would i be an aunt? would i still have my little sister? how would things be different? would.

visiting his tiny little grave is sad. i never knew him, only knew of him. i have only seen photographs – he was before my time. i hate to think of how horrible it must have been to arrive at the hospital, so proud, expecting their first baby – a boy! …and leaving empty handed, empty hearted.
i can only hope that my sister and i have made them happy. as a kid, i used to joke [before discovering of my almost brother] that i was the son my father never had. my sister is a brilliant dentist-to-be, and me – though i didn’t turn out to be the lawyer or engineer they hoped for – i think i am a decent human being. i hope that is good enough.

and i hope baby oscar is making a difference somewhere.

my apologies for such a sad little post. traveling with my parents to california, where our family began, always leaves me full of thought.