She’s her sister. She’s her dear friend too. In the beginning, even before the diagnosis, she was one who stood close. Committed to walk close. Through the crumpling news, the tedious bedside care, the temptations to run far far away, she drew her tight. Though about the same size, the sister doubled wrapped her arms, and triple blanketed her heart, and dabbed streams of tears. She’s her sister and her dear friend.

The sister surprised her recently. At a lunch stop on the way to the airport, there she was. With the same arms and heart and tissue. The same tight draw. She whispered these words as she nuzzled in: “I’m proud of you, Kath. Bill would be proud of you, Kath. We are proud of you.” The sister thinks that she is blessing her with smiles and gifts and comfort. She doesn’t realize, that she is the very presence of Jesus.

Lunch was over. The girls hugged a last time. The sister went home. But the presence is fresh and understanding and sustaining. It will last. She is so grateful for the gift of her sister.