In 2011, my biological sister chose to end our relationship without telling me why, and we haven’t spoken since.
This is not something I’ve previously written about. Partly because my anger has kept me from organizing my thoughts in a meaningful way, and partly because parts of this story aren’t mine to tell. But after years of therapy and introspection I feel like I’m ready to write about the parts of the story that are mine, in order to try and reach some level of peace.
For years after she cut me off, I was incredibly angry and hurt. I felt betrayed and used, and came up with explanation after explanation as to why she had disappeared from my life, each more reprehensible than the last. I was so angry and hurt I never reached out to her, nor would I permit any family member to do so on my behalf.
This went on until we lost my daughter Moe to suicide in 2013. I was so destroyed by this loss the best I could do was to to ask an extended family member to notify her of Moe’s death before the note Moe wrote to her and her husband arrived via the mail. While I felt no obligation to let my sister intrude on my grief, I thought being notified just by the note would be unkind in the extreme. She chose not to reach out to me at that time, and to be honest, I was relieved. I literally had no emotional labor left for anyone else - I barely had the emotional energy to continue living.
Instead, a week following Moe’s death my brother-in-law chose to text every member of the extended family to tell us that he hoped we all burned in hell. No exceptions, not for people who had been nothing but kind to them, not for those who had not taken sides in the estrangement, not even for my son, who as a child I had allowed to build a relationship with them, just as I had with Moe. What precipitated this choice? I don’t know. I have no idea what Moe wrote to them prior to her death. It was critically, vitally important to me that I abide absolutely by Moe’s wishes after her death, so after the coroner's office reviewed everything Moe left at the scene of her death I simply mailed the note to my sister and her husband, exactly as Moe had asked. After those text messages were sent, I gave up all hope of ever having my sister as a part of my life again, and my anger burned anew. I considered such an unkind act at a time when every member of our family was torn down by grief to be unforgivable, regardless of the motivation. To be honest, I still feel that way.
A number of years later, I found out that her husband had passed away. I found out long after the fact, almost incidentally. Again I chose not to reach out to her, even though I suspected how difficult his death must have been for her. How could it not be? They spent their entire adult lives together. But I was still so angry and hurt not only by the initial severing of the relationship, but by her continued silence following my daughter’s death, that I could not bring myself to do so. She and her husband had made it abundantly, hatefully clear that neither I nor any member of the extended family was to contact them, ever again. So I didn't.
And yet, I grieve. I grieve for my lost relationship with her, and the years we’ve lost, and will continue to lose. I regret what I did to precipitate this break, not even knowing what that was. I regret not having the opportunity to make amends for that hurt. I regret that we were not able grieve together for the child we both loved so dearly. And I grieve that I see no way forward from here.
I’m not the same person I was eleven years ago. How could I be, after losing my only sibling, and then my Gram, and then my only daughter, and then an Auntie I loved like a daughter, and then my beloved mother-in-law? I don't think my sister is the same person either, after her own pain and suffering.
But how do you mend such deep pain? How can you let go of the anger and hurt and start anew? Is it even possible? I don’t know. For over a decade, my anger has been a festering burn in my heart, bringing me nothing but grief and regret. It brings me to tears of rage, it steals my sleep and my peace of mind. Until today, I’ve not expressed that anger in any meaningful way except to my therapist and those who know me best, because what difference would it make? My anger won’t change the outcome, and I believed that expressing it would just bring more drama into my life when all I want is peace.
And now, I've finally reached a point where I'm ready to make room for my grief in addition to my anger. My own journey in working through my feelings won't change anyone's perspective but my own, but I do believe it will help me in my quest for peace. And that's reason enough to write about it, I think.
She’s still my sister. I still love her. I still want her to have a happy and healthy life, even though she's decided I can't be a part of it. My hurt and anger wouldn’t be so deep and abiding if I didn’t still care about her, still miss her presence in my life.
No one is the villain in their own story. It’s taken me ten years of therapy and self work to admit that while I've always considered myself the injured party in this story, she almost certainly feels the same. Does she also have regrets? Does she miss me at all, as I miss her? I have no way of knowing. She’s made it clear she doesn’t want to hear from me, and I’ve respected that wish, initially because of my anger, and later because even though I hate the decision she made, she’s a grown woman with agency who commands her own destiny. She has the right to determine who will be part of her life and who won't, just as I do.
But I'll still grieve for this lost relationship, and probably will for the rest of my life. I'll regret that she found it necessary to sever our connection, whatever the reason. I'll continue to work through my anger, grief, and regret, to try and reach a point of peace and acceptance. Because these are the only things I can do.
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