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Dark clouds hang over my hometown. I am reminded of my mother’s death many years ago. I lived in foster care without knowing my bloodline. It felt like the end. I longed for family closeness.

After researching my ancestry, I discovered that my father has many children. My younger sister, Marva, was a remarkable woman. Despite being a single mother, she was kind, strong, and hardworking. Her compassionate heart touched countless people. We share an unbreakable bond.

During our last walk together, an unexpected vehicle drove close to us. My sister quickly grabbed my arm. Protectively, she pulled me close to her side. “Get out of the way; I do not want you to get hurt,” she said.

It has been a few years since then. Nevertheless, in April 2023, the street she once protected me from suddenly took her life. A drunk driver hit her with his vehicle. As a result, my sister was rushed to the hospital. Unfortunately, a few hours later, she died.  

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Early that morning, at 5:30 a.m., I was awakened by the news of her death. After hanging up the phone, I sat on the edge of my bed and wept. It was almost like a dream. There was a profound sense of grief, emotional trauma, and a lifetime of pain. Our families and friends are devastated. 

My prayers and thoughts focused on her children. Despite her simple lifestyle, my sister was devoted to her family. She gave cheerfully. Everywhere she went, she helped others without expectations.

Although the rain stopped, the clouds remained gloomy. It was indeed a sad and dark day. During the ceremony, the community expressed its sorrow. It conveyed the depth of loss and love experienced by those left behind. 

During their grief-stricken moments, the children struggled to keep their families together. At my sister’s funeral, my nephew in tears reached for his mother. Additionally, my niece attempted to remove dirt from her mother’s casket. 

At the painful gravesite, siblings embraced each other tearfully. It was my first encounter with some of my siblings and other family members. Many families and friends traveled from various countries to pay their last respects. However, I know I will forget some names during this grieving process. My heart ached as I wept. It is my reality.

RELATED: Breast Cancer Stole My Sister: What I Want Us All To Remember

Sadly, in life, the children had no chance to say goodbye to their mother. I wish I had all the right words to comfort the kids. It is indeed a struggle to cope with such emptiness.

Even more, the sad truth of growing up without a mother hits close to home. Letting go is challenging. It takes time, especially for children who have lost someone they love dearly. Our hearts still want to hold on.

Regardless, I pray that God will give the children strength and grace to move forward. My sister’s faith made her a strong woman. She taught us togetherness, compassion, love, and forgiveness. Whatever the situation, she always knew what to do and say.

A freshly dug grave now contains her remains. Her burial place was marked with candles, flowers, and tears. Ultimately, her boundless love will forever fill our hearts.

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Brenda Richard

Brenda Richard is the author of The Mystery of The Hidden Barrels, How I Met My Father, People in Her Path, and Crooked Professor Q. She started writing five years ago; however, even as a child, Brenda felt that voice inside her always had something to say. She enjoys writing; with her creative and imaginary mind, everything comes to life.   Brenda was born on an island in the Caribbean. She lost her mother at the tender age of four years old, after which the remaining of her childhood was spent in a foster home. At the age of 19 years old she migrated to Toronto, Canada where she lives most of her life. In her leisure time, when not writing, she can be found doing volunteer work, helping the vulnerable and less fortunate. She loves cooking, gardening, and traveling.

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