To my dear and only sister. I think of her every single day, I see her on billboards, on truck facades, on stranger's faces, in art, music. ect... And I dream when we were young going on vacation to our fathers estate in La Plaine.
I don't think any other family member feels the way I feel, I did not have a mother growing up. I only knew her and the maids, she was just a few years older then me but she was my world. She influenced me in everything. Anything she liked, I liked. Everything she disliked I also disliked. We were more than brother and sister for we were a unit.
The sad thing about her is that she was a Muslim and she did not drink or smoke. She died from complications of menopause
She went to the doctor too late. A cancer had already overtook her body. The doctor gave her eight months to live,
She hide it from everyone, she died in six months. But before she left, she wrote a goodbye letter to each one.
Mine I will cherish as long as I live. Her Muslim name was Aisha.
Below is the letter. She signed it 4 1/2. For that was he childhood nickname. My father named her that name because she was born very weak and prematured, in 7 months. She stayed in the hospital for a couple of weeks. She weighted just four and a half pound. 4 1/2