Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Two Sisters


As I am packing, and embarking, on yet another visit to my sister, I am thankful...thankful to God for the time, the resources, the ability, the strength, and yes, the courage, to even leave home, and go. Why courage? Why strength? Why? Because nothing comes easily anymore. Not one trip, and there have been many, has been "easy", yet, here I go again, under the premise that I may be of some help to her. There are many things for her to do, now, and decide, and plan, and talk through, and I want to be there for her. Sure, she has many wonderful friends, sister-like friends, who she can talk with, and does...as do, I. And we are blessed, and thankful for those sister-friends. There is nothing like a girl friend to live with you through life's joys and challenges. But there is nothing like that sister, who knows you, loves you unconditionally, learns to never judge, who walks with you, breathes with you, feels what you feel, knows what you know, who grew up with the memories to be shared, who makes new memories, and in our case, at least for right now, grieves with you.

This trip is a little different. It's my first one where Michael will not be at the boat. It is the reminder of the one, one year ago this very week, when he stood at the dock, waiting, and looking at me in wonderment. He got it! He understood! He knew something in his soul, I sensed it then, and I know it, now. We didn't speak of dying, except in his joking way, we didn't speak of anything but life. He told me things that I do not need to look back on a journal to remember. Whatever he had to face, he could do it, because of his niece, our daughter, sister, girl. He was not afraid. He seized the day and filled the house with people, for an impromptu party, where laughter rang true, and again, memories were made. Photographs were taken, and life was lived. Special people gathered. And it was the last time. He did it for me, for Karen, for himself, for them, and for her, his compass, his guide, his angel.

So, two sisters will gather, again. The house will be different for me. Michael is gone. I keep telling myself that. The flight will be different. Everything is different. It's not that I didn't already know that. Different is my way, the new normal, ever since my life changed and the world shifted. But the larger than life presence will be absent, at least physically. It will all be so different. Yet, I know it is time to go. Maybe I fool myself into believing I can actually be of some help, maybe it is I who needs the help the most, and I rush to the haven where I can grieve, find a little more of myself, live, love, and just BE by the SEA.

Winter, summer, fall, or spring, Hull is where the heart is...yes, Allison taught me that, my upbringing is there, but most of all, my sister is there. We will laugh, we will cry, we will pray, we will be silent, we will be respectful of where the other one is, emotionally and spiritually, we will tell stories, we will remember. But most of all, we will be together. And that is nothing but ALL GOOD.

2 comments:

Mary Potts said...

Kathy, you are SO lucky to have a sister. I don't, and boy would I love to have one. Have a wonderful visit and help one another find peace - through shared tears and laughter.

I couldn't help but notice that you have the Angel of Summer on the mantel - the one holding the sunflower. Hmmm, I happen to have one of those too.

Becky said...

I never had a sister to talk to, to confide in, to share those secrets that only sisters can possibly understand. You are so blessed & I am so glad you & Karen have each other to lean on, to comfort each other in all the struggles your family has been through.