My sister was born on the first of May, and died the day after her 22nd birthday. I have a tendency to be optimistic, so I like to celebrate her birthday rather than think of the final few days of her hooked up to all manner of beeping machines - that thankfully I never had to witness.
So I remember her as this sharp, dry witted girl who shared an identical sense of humour to me. She sent me a lot of those dumb YouTube clips of the Llamas with Hats era, and I’m sure we heard the lonely island’s “I’m on a boat” and though of the other immediately, just to give you an idea.
Because she was 22 when she died, and I moved out west at that age, I think of what she might be doing every year based on whats happening in the world and what my mind was like 7 years ago. It’s a good litmus test of my eventual maturity as well. I never lived in England from her diagnosis in 2007 until the end in 2012, but I remember surprising her and our brother for a September trip - which would have been a familial hat trick, but for her taking a bit of a bad turn under a week before I got there, and my aunt Sue decided that my mom needed some good news. (Mom called me immediately and said she’s certain she would have fainted so probably a good thing.)
Anyway, my uncle picked me up from the airport that morning, and just as we arrived, Ali had gone to the bathroom upstairs. Cue an interminable wait in the car lest the surprise be ruined as I took my shoes off while she came down the stairs.
Surprise went great, it might be the only time I’ve seen my brother speechless. He had just spoken to me 24 hours prior. The best though was my sister staring dumbfounded. My mom said “Ali that’s Aaron” and my sister, deadpan, said “yeah mum I’ve got brain cancer I’m not blind.”
Kinda sums her up.
Raise a glass this week for her.