The Velveteen Rabbit

This is my sister, Bunny. She was diagnosed with a very rare stomach cancer called linitis plastica in June. Last week they started the process of putting her into a palliative coma because her pain is too great to bear. Yesterday was the first day she was completely sedated. Today her breathing is weak, shallow, and sporadic.

That's what's happening to her. I want you to know about her.

Bunny is whip-smart with a razor-sharp wit and, until today, the whip and razor were still able to cut through all the layers of opioid fog. She had us doubled over, tears streaming down our faces from laughter in the hospital last week. She is sometimes frustrating, often brilliant, and almost always funny.

She's a wife and mother. She has raised an amazing kiddo (he's just a bit older than he was in this picture). His humor and delivery are just a little different than hers, but it's clear he is a product of his mother. I'm eager to see what this amazing boy does when he's grown.

Bunny is nine years younger than I am. Each time I dropped a penny into a wishing well or blew out birthday candles, I wished for a baby sister. Wishes work when you're eight years old. If wishes still worked at 42, I would use today's birthday candles to give her a full, unabridged life.

I won't get all "Tuesdays with Morrie" on you and tell you to go hug your loved ones. You already know to do that.