When I was little, I used to call my older sister Rhonda, "Onda". She thought that was really cute. But then, I was her little brother, and almost everything I did was adorable to her.
Rhonda was my half-sister, and sixteen years my senior. She had moved out by the time I became aware of my surroundings. I really didn't see her that much as I was growing up, and honestly, didn't see her that much afterward either. It was hard to think of her as my sister in the way that Amy, my younger sister, is my sister. It was different. But I still loved her all the same.
I learned this morning that Rhonda had become very sick, but for reasons of her own, she hadn't wanted us to know (she lived in Texas). Her boyfriend called to tell us that she had gone into a coma. This evening, I learned that she was gone. In 24 hours, I've gone from not knowing anything about her illness to having to say goodbye. It's hard.
I love you, Onda. I wish I could hug you and tell you that one more time.