Update on sister!

Hey guys!

A quick and very happy update: My sister had her final exam last week and the results have shown that she is all healed up!

So young and so freaking brave, I couldn’t have handled it as well as she did, really look up to her. She’s so f’ing awesome… It took her three months to beat.

Thanks for your kind words and for your wishes 🙂

Crochet Apple Cozy and an update on my sister!

Hey guys! Been pretty busy since my last post. First things first: after the horrible week we spent not knowing exactly what my sister has, we got the news that it was the lesser of two evils: A Hodgkin Lymphoma. Weird as it may seem, I was so happy. I spent the whole week with a big 64% in my head, which was the success rate for treating a Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma and all of a sudden that scary number was replaced by a juicy 90%. So yeah, I’m damn happy.

My sister’s been really strong and brave, as usual, and her chemo is going well. The only bad side effect was the loss of hair. She shaved it off yesterday, and I must say she looks pretty badass without hair. She likes the look too, so I’m also very happy for that.

I made her a crochet hat and matching boot cuffs and gave her my latest crochet-fascination-item: an apple cozy. Part of her new diet involves eating lots of fruit and apples are included, so it was a win-win gift 🙂

Here is my apple crochet cozy:



As usual, I found the tutorial on Youtube, but I didn’t quite like the end result, so I made up my own upper bit, looks more appleish to me like this.

You can find the tutorial here if you are interested in starting one of your own. It is a great idea to help you take your lunch in your bag without getting it dirty or bruised:

Apple Cozy tutorial

My sister

Last friday I went shopping with my sister. My kid sister. She’s 20 now. We both had a cold, but along with my boyfriend, had a lot of fun checking out crafting supplies. I was clueless as to what was about to happen in the next few days.

Let’s go back twenty years. I was traumatised with three baby brothers, who appeared in rapid succession lol. The crying, the fits, the diapers, the more crying… but they were growing, and as a young teen, the worst finally seemed to be passing.

Along comes my sister.

Ever since she was a baby, ever since her first days, she revealed to us the type of person she would eventually become. She was a happy, uncomplicated baby. She was sincere, and had a strange ‘light’. I keep saying that if all babies were like here, there would be more babies in the world.

She had a short life line on the palm of her hand.

She grew, and continued being her light, sincere, affectionate, pure self. She’s active, fun, creative, loving.

As a teen, she was busy being a teen. Friends, phones, friends lol.

As my half-sister, I only saw her so often. I wanted to tell her about the things I had learned so far. And I never forgot the short life line. I never managed to find the time to grab her and talk to her in a meaningful way. Whenever we met, there were too many people and distractions around us.

Christmas came, and my gift to her was a letter. In this letter, I shared with her advice about all the things I had learned in the fifteen years I had lived since her birth. It came in handy it seems, and saved her from making the same mistakes I did. She recently thanked me for it, she had before, but this time, she realised how useful it had been. She sent me an image that really moved me.


Saturday, I was about to start lunch with my mom and my brothers (my also half-brothers, mom’s side), and she phones me asking if I wanted to do lunch. I told her I was already about to start lunch, so if she wanted, she’d have to come join us. She passed.

Saturday night, dad texts me that my little sister is in the hospital. Her lymph nodes were apparently going crazy, her thymus too big to be considered normal.

We go see her there. She seems fine, rosy cheeks, bit of a cough. She’s smiling as usual, worried but calm. I went back home, hoping it was something like mononucleosis.

The next day comes. I phone her up in the morning to see how she is doing, and if there is any news. There is, and bad news she says. Lymphoma. Lymphoma?

Yesterday, biopsy time. We visited. Couldn’t believe how calm and sweet she was. How strong. She talked a lot, she laughed a lot, she reassured a lot. She was strong for her mother every time she saw a tear. “I am here and I’ll keep being here, you’ll see. I will beat this”. So so brave… that light.

The painkillers wore off, and so did her light. I helped her get to bed for the night.

Today we might get news. Lymphoma or not, Hodgkins or not. Been reading up on it and I am not liking what I am reading.

It’s weird. She’s my baby sister, I have always seen her as that. There are too many years between us for me not to. It feels like I somehow cheated. I’m fifteen years older, and I did a lot more things wrong, I do not have her light, and here I am, clean inside. It just doesn’t make sense. She’s too good for this.

I’m still hoping this was all just a fuck up the doctors made.

My boyfriend has the same sort of ‘light’. He’s been so helpful and well… as usual, he keeps me on the path.

If you read this send my kid sister good vibes.

Once upon a time…

First of all, yes, this is me, thirty years ago.


Oh my gosh… thirty freaking years ago.

Ok, now that that’s out of the way, this is a photograph of one of my first memories, and it has an interesting and somewhat adorable story to it.

I have always remembered the time when my father drew me a clown so that I would color it in. I was very excited, and colored it really really well, I was quite proud of the outcome, I had kept the brush within the lines very very well.

So I walk up to my dad, and I proudly present him our joined work of art.

He looked at it and laughed, and then told me “that’s all wrong”.

My heart was broken.

He the  told me to go outside and stand in the varanda, and took this photograph.

Can you see the heart ache?


OH MY GOD I WAS SO FREAKING CUTE! Look at that pout.

Yes, my favorite color was red. No, this was not a creepy kid painting a bloodied psycho clown. I really really thought I had done an excellent job.

Now the interesting bit is that as I grew, and my idea of ‘correct coloring in’ changed, so did my memory of this moment. I genuinely thought my father had been unfair, and that I had  painted it very well, with several colors.

Then, decades later, I found this photo.

Interesting how the mind works.

Goodbye old friend

This big old beauty will be cut down tomorrow. She has seen me since I was in my mother’s womb until now. I’d walk underneath her branches when I was a kid, going to school, running away from school, visiting my grandparents, and I still walk underneath its branches as I go to work. She saw my grandmother as a kid, and she saw our whole family the day she was buried. She’s seen my dad in my gran’s womb, seen him run around, grow, graduate. My grandparents used to live right in front of it. Her branches would reach into their room if they opened a window. She even saw my dad’s pet turtle fall off the balcony and onto the ground below (it survived somehow). She will be gone forever because she is big and tilting onto the road.


I’ll miss her.