The death and birth of a sister. 

The death and birth of a sister.

I was 2 years old running around in dipers. A lot of doctors entered our home and they stood around the big white bed where my mother sat holding my little sister Petra. I went into the room and I remeber one of the doctors saying " and she hasn't got a clue" while looking at me. I understood that but wondered what was going on that I couldn't understand. I tried to approach my mother to ask what was wrong, but she didn't let me come near. Petra must have died already then. Otherwise the doctors wold have rushed her to the hospital.
I often stood at her bed afterwards wondering where the baby was. I also had the idea that we had two babies and only one of them was gone, so I used to ask my mother where the other baby was. She thought that I couldn't understand that my sister was dead, so she got very irritated at me when I asked about the other baby. But I was sure we had two. I didn't get to go to the funeral.
After that my parents got very depressed and I lived with my grandmother and grandfather most of the time. I really loved them, they were so kind to me.
Every time I had to go home to my parents I panicked. I didn't want to go there anymore. My grandmother had to fool me that we were only going on a bustrip, but as soon as I saw where we were going I started screaming and wanted to get off the bus. Sometimes she had to take me back home to her again because I just refused to stay with my parents.
I didn't feel welcome at my parent home. Maybe I thought my mother blamed me for my sisters death, I don't know. I was really afraid of going there. I was afraid of my mother. I wonder why?
Maybe I thought they had killed her and now was going to kill me?
I can't recall a logical reason for my fear, but it was very present. Or maybe it was the overall depressing atmosphere in the home that scared me.
I have often wondered and fantasized about how it would have been to have a sister. How she would have looked and what we would have done together and if the family would have been happy if she had lived.
Last year I found out through a mere coincidence that I actually do have another sister. She is nine years younger that me and her mother is a woman that my father had an affair with at a drugclinic that he lived at for a while. My father didn't know about her either.
He got a call from this woman who said that she had met a friend of his at another drugclinic and since he was from the same town as my father she asked if he knew my fathers name, and he did. She had been looking for him all these years and now she found him. My sister looks a little bit like me, has the same features that I have gotten from my father.
We haven't met yet, but I hope we will soon.

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