I often wonder how different all our lives would have been if Deanna had lived. Maybe my parents' divorce wouldn't have been so ugly. I certainly wouldn't have felt the tragic consequences of my parents' brooding and grieving. No 5 year old should have to feel unwanted and unloved simply because they survived a car crash and the "baby" didn't. God, it brings tears to my eyes just writing that. But it's how I've always felt - guilty for living. Why didn't God take me? What is the lesson we were supposed to learn? That life is fleeting? That you shouldn't take one another for granted because you never know? When this type of thinking is ingrained in you at such a young age it creates a mindset of hurry up and do it because I may not see tomorrow; death is around every corner; you never know.
Her death 42 years ago has impacted my entire life. I almost wrote "negatively impacted" but I'm not sure that's completely true. I mean, I have a choice on how I cope, the paths I choose to follow, etc. I just really wish it had not happened and I wish from the bottom of my soul that God had not allowed it to happen. Maybe I'm angry because certainly "the accident" marred me, made me feel different, and caused deep insecurities in me. It also bestowed angel status on my sister, leaving me to feel less than worthy of love. It's kept me from giving and receiving love properly. I'm always afraid when I finally hand my heart and soul over it will be cruelly snatched away. I have no control and that's scary.
Well, I've gotten all morose when all I wanted to do was remember my sister's birthday. Sorry.