Amy

4th March 2018

She’s gone. 

My sister lies in front of me, perfectly still. Her expression is relaxed and calm. She looks more peaceful than she has in months. It’s as if she has drifted off into a long sleep―the pain and suffering have seeped away. She’s at peace. Finally.

Forty-four is no age to die. Even though we all knew it was inevitable the end was near, none of us expected it to happen. Bex had been the focus of us all in recent years. All our plans and arrangements centred around how she was feeling that day. If she was unwell, we would all stay with her regardless of what had been on our agenda.

Four years ago, the doctors told her it was unlikely she would see her forty-second birthday. The disease was spreading at a phenomenal rate and her prognosis was poor, but she beat the odds and survived far beyond what was expected of her. 

Miracles don’t last forever.

She told me she would be gone soon. She made me promise to live my life to the full, take risks, and enjoy the crazy moments. “You live for both of us, Amz,” she said. “My life is being cut short. You make damn sure yours isn’t too. Live Amy, please. Stop worrying about being perfect and just be you.” Tears had rolled down my face with her words. “Time is infinite, but life is finite.” We held each other then and sobbed, together.

I’m not sure I will be able to do what she asks without her by my side. She’s my twin―there have always been two of us. She’s the yin to my yang. They say twins have a connection. and it’s true. Bex had an uncanny ability to know when I was in pain both physically and emotionally. Between us, we’ve had our fair share of heartbreak and low moments, but we always survived with each other. Now, I don’t have the other half of me.

I glance over to Ben; he’s sitting on her other side gently holding her hand. His finger moves slowly over the surface of her skin. He’s enjoying being able to touch her again. Touch is a powerful sense which is essential in any relationship, especially the kind of relationship Bex and Ben had. In the final days of her illness, she couldn’t bear to be touched. The simple gesture of a cuddle would cause her intense pain. I watched as her husband had to restrain himself from holding her when she was distraught with the situation they found themselves in. 

 I’m not sure how long we have been sitting here, but I know it must be hours. The doctor pronounced her dead at 11.31 a.m., and we haven’t moved or spoken since she passed away. We don’t need to. We’ve both sat here thinking about her, thinking about ourselves, and thinking about how much we will miss her.

“Have you told Liam?” I ask.

Bloodshot blue eyes focus on me, and he shakes his head. “No,” he says. “I need to call home, but what do I say, Amz? How do I tell my son his mum is gone?” I stand and move to sit beside him, putting my hand on his shoulder. I haven’t seen him cry yet, but his tears are close to the surface.

“All you can do is tell him the truth. She said goodbye to him yesterday,” I remind him. “Bex knew today was her last day. She had all her ducks in a row.”

“Typical Bex,” he mumbles. “For someone who used to be so bloody disorganised, impending death made her up her game.” We both giggle at the observation. It’s true. Death made Bex get her act together. 

Then the dam breaks and his tears come. He places her hand gently onto the bed, then drops his head into his hands with his elbows on his knees. “So much wasted time. We missed so much of each other,” he whispers. 

Bex and Ben had a turbulent relationship. They got together, broke up, had one-night stands, and created a son before they got their shit together. They missed out on over a decade with each other through terrible choices. It took her being diagnosed with terminal cancer for them to make a life. It breaks my heart. My sister was happiest in his arms. For all their ups and downs, they loved each other.

“Should I call a nurse?” I ask. “Are you ready to leave?” He nods. “Do you know what hurts most?” he says. 

My eyebrows draw together in question. 

“When I walk away from her this time, it’s forever. There’s no going back or fixing this. No begging for forgiveness. No second chances. It’s over.” 

Clearing my throat, I pause to collect my thoughts. What do I say to that? “Ben, you need to prioritise Liam. You have an eleven-year-old boy at home who has just lost his mum. Never mind the other three broken-hearted kids. However bad you’re hurting, they need to be your focus. We will all miss her. But life doesn’t stop. She wouldn’t want you to live in grief. Grieve, but don’t stop living.” Standing, I hold out my hand. He takes it. We walk from the room, away from my sister now forever sleeping.

*

“Do you want a cup of tea or something stronger?” my husband, Terry, calls from the kitchen. We’ve just arrived home from Ben’s after telling Liam his mother is gone. His little face dropped at the disclosure. He glanced from his father to me and back again then ran from the room and disappeared out of the back door into the garden. After a few minutes, he appeared back with a small box wrapped in pink paper and tied with a white bow. 

“Dad,” he said. “I didn’t realise yesterday was goodbye forever. I thought I would see her again. How can I give her this?”