More about Ashley

I’ve been feeling anger toward my sisters lately. Neither one is around anymore. Ashley is gone and Alyssa hasn’t been in my life for ten years now. Why did they do this to me? Why did they abandon me? I know it sounds childish, but the child-like part of me asks myself these questions every now and then.

I try to remember back to when Ashley was well, and I have to reach way back in order to get there. My mind is jogged by letters I read and pictures I see. I remember her high standards and expectations from life, which, on one hand is very admirable and on the other is very frustrating to those she was close to. She was very determined and knew what she wanted and sometimes even what other people should want. Ashley spoke her mind, sometimes with words and other times with a sigh or gesture. She would impishly raise one eyebrow up to her hairline, and that was often accompanied by a barely-audible snicker. She could be very critical, just like my uncle. She took her time doing work, never rushing anything. She was very generous, and she loved dogs. Ashley and I got closer about three years ago, a little while after she had returned to school and after I had returned from Germany. She would call and email me, and most times I wouldn’t respond, or at least not initially. It took me a while to see the sisterly bond between us that had been there from the start, because it was often camouflaged by jealousy, animosity, or ambivalence. Once we started talking more, most of that faded into the background. It never completely disappeared, but it faded. I realized that we had a lot in common and how nice it was to talk to someone who understood me so well. We shared the same parents and a childhood; nobody else, except Alyssa, knows our past so intimately. It was reassuring knowing that somebody in the world was so much like me.

Ashley’s graduation ceremony from Bryn Mawr College was held last Sunday. My mom and I walked across the stage to accept her diploma. When it was announced that her degree was awarded posthumously, the crowd gasped a little, but then applauded until after my mom and I returned to our seats. It was spectacular, heartfelt, and highly charged. I couldn’t have imagined it going any better. I kept picturing what it would have been like had Ashley actually been there. She would have been irritated with my family, annoyed that none of us knew why some of the capes were fur-lined and others weren’t, what language was printed on the cover of the yearbook (I think it’s Greek), and other silly questions. But she also would have been really happy and excited about her future endeavors. She was going to go on to graduate school. Maybe she would have studied urban development or law. I miss having Ashley around. Even if we weren’t in close contact, I regret no longer having that as an option. It’s hard for me to be angry with her, despite what I stated in the beginning. It’s especially hard because she was so sick for so long. When I think back, though, I get angry at her for “letting” herself get so sick.

There will be a plaque and a book collection dedicated in Ashley’s honor at the Bryn Mawr library. Please let me know if you can think of any books that should be dedicated in her honor. They do not need to have anything to do with her studies (Economics/Urban Development and German).