So Sorry for Your Loss by Dina Gachman

Author:Dina Gachman [Gachman, Dina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Union Square & Co.
Published: 2023-04-11T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

Mourning Them When They’re Here, But Not

It was midmorning in Manhattan. I was walking up Fifteenth Street, toward Fifth Avenue, heading to the upscale sushi restaurant where I worked. I was scheduled for a double that day, which meant that, for at least eight hours, I would be serving ebi, hamachi, and a slow-poached octopus that one critic called “outrageously good.” There was a bodega on Fifth that I sometimes ran into before work to stock up on important contraband like gum, also known as a little piece of heaven that I was only allowed to chew between shifts. Just as I was getting close enough to turn the corner, there she was. Instead of calling out to her, I froze.

She crossed the intersection alone, wearing what seemed like clothes from the night before. Then again, she did always dress like a movie star, even if she was just heading to Walgreens for some Chapstick. Her shock of bright burgundy hair made her impossible to miss. That hair had become her signature look. The wild color never ceased to frustrate our mom, whose philosophy was “The blonder, the better, especially if you’re brunette.” Jackie wasn’t trying to blend in, though. She loved glamour and drama, so maybe it was her way of making a statement or standing out.

On the day I saw her crossing Fifth Avenue, Jackie lived in Queens and I lived in Brooklyn, so the chances of us running into each other in Manhattan, at 11 a.m. in a city of over eight million people, seemed slim. I’d only been there for a few months, and it was the first time my sister and I had lived in the same city since I was in high school. I had decided to leave California for New York right after graduate school, not for fortune or fame, but for love. My stay only lasted one year, and during that time, the severity of my sister’s alcoholism was something I could no longer ignore. If our relationship were “normal,” if I knew then what I know now, I would have called her name that day in the street, run to her, hugged her. If things were different, we would have laughed about how random and strange and lucky this was. Instead of yelling her name, though, I prayed she wouldn’t see me. As quickly as she appeared, Jackie disappeared into the mass of people coming and going, never knowing that her eldest sister was standing ten feet away, looking right at her. Instead of going to the bodega, I turned back and headed into work.

That encounter haunts me. Years went by, and I never told Jackie that I saw her that day. I didn’t tell most people, since explaining the complexities of loving an alcoholic to anyone who hasn’t lived it can be challenging. How could I not say hello to my own flesh and blood? The baby sister who slept in my bed when she was little, because she was scared to sleep alone.

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