What matters most

Family.

Blood.

This was brought home to me very forcibly when a friend of my sister’s tracked me down through an author card I‘d given her months ago. She phoned, saying sister was terribly ill, and she really thought I should get some medical attention for her.

Apparently sister had been mysteriously unwell for about six weeks and hadn’t told me. We mostly email each other to keep in touch. Would she have told me if we were phoning instead? Probably not - she wouldn’t have wanted to worry me!

SO… Determined to get the whole truth and nothing but the truth, I dropped everything at home and drove four hours north, arriving unannounced, and giving poor sis a terrible shock. On the way there I managed to convince myself she was halfway dead. Would I have to track her to the hospital if she didn't open the door? Would I be responsible for clearing out the house? Selling the house? Writing a eulogy for the funeral? Goodness, unfounded worry is a terrible thing, and an author’s inventive brain makes it worse.

She did indeed answer the door – looking pale and thinner than usual and rather annoyed. In fact it was the loudly voiced annoyance that convinced me she wasn’t actually halfway dead! She was annoyed I’d bothered travelling all that way. Annoyed I hadn’t told her I was coming. And extremely annoyed with her friend for alarming me.