I have been spending a great deal of time organizing my second book. In reading it through again, I came across Hunter, my youngest sister by three years. Her name has been changed to give her a bit of anonymity. Hunter is a paper bag which has been ripped open from the weight of her own misgivings. I spent years trying to be helpful to Hunter, all for not.
Recently, I learned that Hunter had been labeled an extreme overdose after showing up in a hospital emergency room in Pennsylvania. How she got there, I have no idea. Got to Pennsylvania, not the emergency room. The emergency room makes sense as she has been an extreme drug addict for a long time, tearing through all the lives of those who once loved her.
After my niece told me about her admission to the hospital, I text back that I love Hunter because she is a creature of this earth, but I don’t like her. I have finally forgiven her for all the grief she’s caused me and the family. But I want nothing to do with her. Harsh, I know. And whose to say that if she showed up at my doorstep, sober, that I wouldn’t reach out to her.
She won’t find me. I am lost to her in all the ways a person can be lost to another. I pray for her peace of mind. I pray for her hoping it is not too late.