The longest day

A year ago today my youngest sister died.

Today in her memory my other sisters have run in a charity race, more info here and here

I’m not sure what to do in her memory. I seem to automatically be shedding a lot of tears, which isn’t actually the best way to remember someone, but seems unavoidable. I miss my little sister.

Katrin always went her own way. Always. I remember her coming to stay with me when I was at uni and taking her to a Bon Jovi concert – a fantastic day out at Gateshead stadium. Unfortunately the weather was a bit too fantastic and she got somewhat singed. Redhead you know. At least her musical taste had improved from the day I spent on the phone trying to get her Take That tickets, first time around.

At 17 she had her first child, known here as Scott. He’s a wonderful boy, she cared so much about raising him. And a few years later she married his father, while pregnant with their second child, Princess.

They had a few good years together, and Bil is now doing a fabulous job raising their children.

But I wish he wasn’t having to do it alone. She’s the only one of my sisters who had her own children and that shared experience of pregnancy, childbirth and rearing was one I valued. Especially as Princess and Small share a few character traits out of the norm (there’s something to think about), probably part of the reason they get on so well.

The memory I try to cherish is of a visit to Cannon Hall Farm nearly two years ago now. A lovely day in the sun.

I only wish I’d managed to have more of them with her.