My sister, Bonnie Pauahi Stevens, died on October 13, 2016.
Her death was in some ways harder to deal with than the death of my mother because it seemed so premature, as Bonnie was three years younger than I am now. Too soon to die, I thought then, and continue to feel now.
Life goes on, of course.
But I still feel her presence. “Her” mango tree, a Bombay Piri, which was planted at the time of her birth, continues to thrive in our backyard next to “my” tree, a larger Haden. Her genealogical files have proved an enduring resource, even if I don’t have all the skills to easily interpret them.
Bonnie’s passing didn’t leave me alone. I am fortunate to have found both a half-sister and half-brother who I never knew about when I was growing up with Bonnie, although I’m not accustomed to being the elder in the family. And picking up some of Bonnie’s interest in family history has introduced me to other cousins of various distances and generations, who continue to add depth to my appreciation of family roots.
Bonnie and Ian c. 1947
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Hugs. And what a nice remembrance
you haven’t change, just gotten taller 🙂
My condolences, Ian…
A meaningful tribute and gracious recognition of the gifts your sister left to you. It’s funny how our perceptions of youth and age change. Next year, it will be 30 years since my mother passed away at age 57. Back then, I thought that was so old. But the same milestone birthday is now just a few months away for me and my perspective has changed to align more with yours.
Your tributes to Bonnie always touch my heart. Thanks for sharing.