HAELEY, Anita Marina

A Tribute to My younger Sister, Marina

Marina, I miss you deeply. I often think back to our childhood when we were just Mary Henderson and June Hanson, playing "house to house" in our bedroom. We'd knock on the door like little canvassers, offering our handmade literature. And when the imaginary homeowner refused, we’d stubbornly shove our magazines under the door, insisting, “Take it!” — then fall into fits of laughter, not fully understanding the world we were mimicking, but joyfully wrapped in the simplicity of our weekends. Life then was filled with home-cooked lunches, time spent with Oma, and the stories she grew and shared like her garden — a time when things felt safe, and love was easier to see.

Only later in life did I come to understand that beneath your strong, graceful presence, you too carried the silent weight of abuse. I wish I had known sooner how much we had in common. You had a kindness that reached deep — an innate empathy that could cradle the most tortured soul. Your academic brilliance was undeniable, but it was your emotional intelligence, your ability to articulate the complexities of life with such grace, that set you apart.

Since you left on 8 May 2012, I’ve felt the absence of your understanding, your steady voice, and your belief in truth. You foresaw the chaos that followed — the lies, the harassment, the betrayal by those driven by false narratives and ego. You left me in charge, perhaps knowing I would endure, though it’s been painful beyond words. You’d be appalled to see what’s become of our family name.

But through it all, I hold on to the memory of your laughter, your wisdom, and your unshakable compassion. I miss you, Marina — more than words can say.