Kathleen Meier Daily

My sister Kathleen was born seven weeks prematurely in 1956. In those days this was caused for concern. When she came home from the hospital, she would sometimes stop breathing, and one of the jobs of her three older brothers and her parents was to rouse her a bit so that she would resume breathing. This probably went on for two or three weeks after which she could reliably breathe without being monitored. Kathleen and I had a sometimes difficult and sometimes fraught relationship which gradually improved over the last 10 years or so and particularly since she was diagnosed with cancer. We would talk on the phone every week or so in these latter days. About three weeks before she died, she said to me, “I wouldn’t mind living another 10 years or so, but if that is not to be, I am okay with that.“. She had I believe found a level of equanimity around the fact that she had a very limited time left. We would talk about shared common memories, the house we grew up in, dreams we would have about that house, opinions and anecdotes about various relatives, and so forth. I would fill her in on the latest high jinx of my grandson, her great nephew. She loved to hear those stories. I will miss her. I do miss her.