Dear Faith,

 

Today I realized that I’ve never visited your grave.

I wonder what that would feel like

To stand on the spot of grass above your body.

What dates would be inscribed for a person never born?

What would I say to your tombstone?

All I have is my regret that we never spoke.

I wonder what silly arguments we might have had

And wish we’d been given the chance to disagree.

How can it be that I miss you?

All I know of you is your name

And a life you never had--

I would have been a bridesmaid at your wedding.

I’d tear up as I made some sappy toast about

How much I love you and how happy I am for you.

First I’d start out with something funny:

An embarrassing story about something you did when we were young.

I’d pause for laughter and smile at you, tears starting to well up

In my eyes thinking of the memories we shared over the years.

My voice would crack several times throughout the speech,

And I would blush under the gaze of the reception.

Then I’d talk about how giddy you were when you first met

The man you were marrying and tell my first impression

Of him. (I would not have been impressed

because no one is good enough for a sister of mine)

But eventually he would have won me over because

If you, Faith, found something to love about him surely I could too.

Then I’d say how happy I was for the two of you. I’d be a sobbing mess

At this point. You might roll her eyes and come hug me

As everyone clapped for my toast. I would remark

How beautiful you look in the dress I didn’t want you to get.

I liked the princess dress fluffed with tulle that had a sweetheart neckline

But you wanted the satin one with a v-neck.

I’d regain my composure just enough to say

“To the happy couple!”

And raise my glass.

 

What I wouldn’t give to give that speech...

 

Your sister,

Alyssa