By Emma….

Emma is my little sister and I asked her to write down any thoughts or memories that she wanted to share…here is the first email I received from her back in October 2015.

Thoughts 28th Oct 2015.

I try not to think about what she was or what could have been. It’s too devastating. If you open that box, who knows what will come out. We keep busy, don’t we? Take each day at a time. A 6/10 day, an 8/10 day says Dad, although he always pops on an extra point, for protective purposes.

It’s him I worry about endlessly. He haunts my everyday. His thinner, older face, forced smiles, a hug that lingers which never did before. The loneliness. The loneliness. We’re all so far away. Hasn’t he been through enough?

To see her so frightened and anxious about where we all are, that’s the killer. She mumbles about her family so protectively, that’s for my youngest daughter, ouch, a dagger right there. Don’t open the box. We’re here mum, we’re all right here, separated by a huge pane of glass, she can’t hear us calling and endlessly banging. She wanders purposefully, looking for her husband, her keys, anything to drag her back to reality.

Today I feel slight relief, my sister’s there for a visit. Dad can have a chat, have his dinner made, the loos might be cleaned. They can pretend to be normal, for the little ones. He might even play golf.

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