My sister Lin has struggled with illness for a quarter of her life. She has an unknown disease that is likely a result of a missing enzyme in her brain. In addition, she underwent a whipple surgical procedure (the most dangerous operation done today) for common bile duct cancer last year. Her body hasn’t recovered after a year but her spirit is strong and she continues as if nothing has changed. She is the person I chose to eulogize while she is still alive and kicking because my admiration for her is endless. My sister, Lin, is my best friend. Not only do we have longevity: playing dolls, skipping rope, washing dishes, cleaning house, swimming in Dunnings Creek, cooking over the campfire, singing duets, doing gymnastics, climbing trees and playing card games together but we have supported each other through more trials than two loving adults should have to endure. But because we did it together we are closer than most. So these loving words of eulogy are for Lin.

Here you go, Lin- A Pinkogy: “Although I have done it before, I want to apologize for the way I treated you as a younger sister. My unkind behavior never helped your maturing ego and for that I am indeed sorry. I’ve spent my adulthood trying to make up for that. Hopefully, I have succeeded. There is a saying I see on plaques everywhere. It says, “Fate made you my sister and there’s nothing you can do about it.” But I don’t see it that way at all. I was blessed that God gave you to our family, even if Dad always claimed we were all left on the doorstep. Luckily, David’s job allowed us to visit you often, no matter what country you were currently living in, keeping us close, even though you moved away for college and never returned. Our children grew up together over the years and we loved them not only because they were yours, but because we knew them and loved who they were. Winters of cross-country skiing, sledding and sleigh rides. Summers of playing in brooks, climbing waterfalls, sharing campfires, playing Rummicube, or catching fireflies at our vacation farm in North Georgia. The many trips to Disney World, massive shopping trips, swimming in our pool and beach time at the condo when you visited home in Florida. These activities brought us immediate joy and a lifetime of bonding. So when the storms of life hit-we were there for each other. When my youngest went to boarding school for a drug addiction, you were a constant gracious listener as I poured out my suffering: day or night. When your youngest ran away and fell into tough times, I flew there to hug you through it. When you returned from Belgium to find no definitive diagnosis for your strange ailments, I’ve watched your strength, your endurance and your tenacity through sixteen years of pain. I watched as you lost friend after friend and saw your heart seer as our beloved mother’s casket was wheeled away and with it your confidant and encourager. I vowed to be there for you with Mother gone. When your precious Suzanna died suddenly I watched your heart rip apart, your strength wane and your will to live for her surviving children strengthen beyond measure. You put aside your grief to try to bring cheer into the boy’s devastated lives. Your stamina and fortitude taught me to endure when David was dying and your constant presence and guidance saw me through David’s last weeks. Then once again, you returned for the week of the funeral and tenderly held my hand as I walked through the valley of the shadow of death. You call often now that I live alone and spend time cheering me on, when I am down. Visiting to reconnect and solidify our attachment, whether it is to escape your northern winter to California or spend spring at my lake house in Ohio or play summer at the Georgia farm. Your consistent love and devotion, friendship and caring sustain me and bring me renewed life when my grief and loneliness overwhelms me. When cancer attacked two years ago, your persistence was immeasurable. Others would have given in or given up but through it all you fought to remain as non-handicapped as humanly possible, even with several drains hanging out your belly-even making fun of your condition with a rubber sea cucumber. I saw you climb the stairs on your hands and knees, cleaning as you went instead of staying downstairs when your legs wouldn’t work. I watched you eat almost nothing and still double over in pain when your pancreas no longer functioned, rarely complaining of the terrific searing pain in your body every time you ingested anything. When others would have excused themselves from activities or tasks like raising your young grandchildren after Suzanna’s death, shoveling eighteen inches of snow off your sidewalk or hosting the church women for Christmas at your home, you plunged into the tasks with gusto, enthusiasm, fortitude, and cheerfulness, opening your heart and once again enduring, when others would have taken to the couch and refused. And for good reason. But Jesse and Caylum found comfort, love, assurance and consistency in your home through their new gracious parents. You forgave in circumstances I found deplorable. I’ve watched you display Christianity in measures that would make even Jesus proud. When I get mad at others who hurt you, you forgive them. When others abuse you for no good reason, you go on loving. When family takes, you continue to give back. I see able-bodied people living in a mess, but your home is always warm, inviting, comforting and clean-always. You constantly paint rooms yourself and refurbish old things to add that special touch to your home with almost no money. Your children are always clean and well put together, even when you’d rather sleep in after a bad night. Attending school meetings, therapy appointments and plays for the boys even when you feel terrible. ********* Yes, Little Sis, like our mother, I’ve learned from you to live my life with more value, tenacity, acceptance and love. So Happy Valentine’s Day, Linda Jean Wirick Campbell. I’ll love you immeasurably until the day I die and definitely beyond. The day Sara and Ed had you, I was blessed with a sibling, a friend. I am blessed to have you as my sister.