A Sister’s Journey Through Loss, Love and the Healing Power of Faith
When life ends unexpectedly, regrets echo louder than words.
My sister Irma left this earth in a flash. No goodbye. No warning. No chance to say the things that matter. Almost forty years have passed one November day, yet her absence still catches me off guard. Sometimes, I hear her whisper my name—soft, almost playful—as if she wants to tell me something I never understood before. It’s a way of allowing her memory to brush against my spirit, reminding me of God’s comfort.
Grief
Grief is a passage, not a place to stay. It isn’t weakness, nor a lack of faith — it’s the price of love. It’s a journey God walks with us through and where His healing begins.
I still miss her laugh, her dimples, her dark wavy hair, her confident way of walking into a room. We were two years apart and so different—she the radiant one, I the reserved older sister. We shared a room as children, secrets as teenagers, and then our paths diverged. Life, family, and distance took over. A thousand miles and my own busy world kept me from picking up the phone as often as I should have. That is a regret that still humbles me.
Irma was a nurse—beautiful inside and out—who gave her heart to others. She loved deeply, even when it cost her peace. What I didn’t know then was how much pain she carried in silence. Depression was a word rarely spoken in our family. We were taught to endure, to keep up appearances, to pray and press on. But silence can be deadly.
Stopover in Texas
One Christmas after another came and went without her at our family gatherings. I told myself she was busy, that life in the big city kept her occupied. One time during her world travels, she stopped at our home when we lived in Texas attending Bible College. That was one of the most wonderful times—laughing, reminiscing, and sharing dreams. It’s still deeply etched into my memory. Though she had no children of her own, she played and told amazing stories to my children. I had no idea it would be one of our last visits, where we had no usual distractions of life’s busyness in our hometown.
I’d like to comment on my sister’s kind and generous spirit toward her family. She counted it a joy to support two of her siblings in their nursing school. Mom was privileged to go on vacations with her to the Caribbean along with my other sisters when Irma invited them all along at her expense. From her world travels she often brought little gifts to family members.
Special memory
One day, when Irma visited us, she gave me a book titled Lord, Let Me Love by Marjorie Holmes. One thing we had in common was reading. The book about love was her way of saying she loved me. It was years later when the ache reminded me to open it. Inside her looping handwriting, she had written: “Pirkko. This is a pleasure to read and surely uplifts and lifts the spirit today. Love Irma.”
She was caught in an abusive marriage to a man two decades her senior, something she rarely spoke about. I remember urging her to leave—to save herself—but she wouldn’t. Tradition told us that marriage was for life, no matter how broken. But sometimes, survival means breaking the rules and moving on.
And then, it was too late. Irma’s death was ruled a suicide, but I believe it was domestic violence that ended her life.
Questions
Looking back, I wish I had asked more questions. I wish I had looked past the smile and seen the shadows behind her eyes. If only I had known more about mental health. If only I had seen the signs. If only I had reached out more, listened more, prayed harder. But I’ve come to believe that God is good and sovereign. Therefore, I choose faith and will not let old thoughts torment my heart. God’s word reminds me that grace whispers words of truth. Love doesn’t end with death.
Today, I choose to remember her not for how she died, but for how she lived: full of compassion, laughter, and light. Her story fuels my purpose—to remind others to stay close, to listen deeper, to break silence and stigma.
Irma’s story
This is Irma’s story — and mine. A story of love, loss, and the faith that carried me through what I could not bear alone. If you’ve lost someone suddenly or are carrying your own quiet sorrow, may these words remind you that God is near to the broken-hearted, and His light can reach even the darkest places of pain.
I remember Irma for how she lived — full of kindness, laughter, and a heart that gave freely. Though I couldn’t save her, I believe she is safe now, held in the eternal love of Christ in heaven where there is no pain, no crying, no shadows.
If you have lost someone suddenly — by suicide, violence, tragedy or sickness — please know this: you are not alone. Your tears are seen. Your love still matters. And even in darkness, light finds a way to the One who never leaves you. Spurts of grief may come and go, but love remains. And through love and faith healing begins.
Love never fails
I carry the Light that brings hope and healing. And I choose, as my sister did, to believe that Light still wins. And Love never fails.
Thank you for letting me share my sister’s story with you. May these words draw you closer to the One who binds up the broken-hearted and turns mourning into joy.
The Lord is close to the broken hearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.
(Psalm 34:18)
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. (Matthew 5:4)
Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your heart be troubled and do not be afraid.
(John 14:27)
Five ways we can be a healing balm to others navigating grief:
- Acknowledge their loss.
- Don’t rush them to get over it.
- Remember to connect by small gestures by text, phone, etc.
- Ask honest questions and listen with presence.
- Honour their process and follow their lead.
Here’s more about grief. What Christians should know about grief.
If this story touched your heart, I invite you to stay connected. I write to remind us that God is with us even in the darkest valleys or the highest mountaintops, and His grace still writes the next chapter — one of faith, hope, and unending love. Topics that are dear to my heart cover faith, grace, resilience, and courage to keep on living with open hands and heart.
