I love my sister, but I can’t bear seeing her like this.

At 15 years old she was an apparition. Her bright blue eyes drained of life as surely as the life she concealed inside her demanded everything she had. Her golden hair, once the shade of summer sunlight, became the discarded straw of harvest.

When we finally discovered her hidden pregnancy her skin was ash and her strength was gone. The arms that had hit homeruns at McGuan Park were weakly outstretched, begging the family to make her strong again.

She went into labor during the blizzard of 1978. That day my ghostly sister disappeared into the blinding white and returned alone. Her child was given up for adoption. She was a small girl whose life became myth in our family circle; another specter.

She found us when she was 21. The phantom became flesh. My niece is a highly educated professional woman in Chicago and the life that she brings to my sister’s cheeks is undeniable.