The Power of Sisterhood

I have a sister. She’s younger, although once, by accident, an old man thought I was her daughter…and yes, in the only way an older sister can ever have a moment of fun, I’ve never let her forget it! Giggle Giggle…it was a once in a lifetime slip from an old man whom I’ll never correct!! Heck, I’ll never ever correct him because it’s the last time I’ll ever be mistaken for her daughter! Big huge grin…ha ha ha….

But there’s nothing like having a sister, as you may know if you have one yourself. Hopefully you are close to your sister, but if you aren’t, I think it’s time to reach out and to invite her back into your life. Because she’s the only one who really gets your childhood. She was there. She knows and if you’re lucky, she understands.

The other day my sister called to see what I was doing and before I knew it, she picked me up and we took a drive together. I’ve recently moved about 10 minutes away from her, having been faraway for a long time, and let me tell you, it was the BEST DECISION I’ve made in years. We’ve been through a lot together and perhaps it’s fair to say, we haven’t always seen eye to eye. But what she’s taught me is that she’ll never leave me and I’ll never leave her, especially now that there’s just the two of us. What a precious gift to know that you are loved unconditionally with the ability to trust in the other person without question!

It’s taken us time to get to this level of understanding. Heart to heart talks with the willingness to listen and to be with the other without judgment have enhanced our relationship. Honesty and unconditional love are necessary parts of this journey. Celebrating our similarities and differences is too! Knowing we are blessed and counting those blessings makes it even more precious. Choosing to share this journey with all of its life lessons…what a blessing to have someone to hold your hand (or your foot!)while you navigate the sticky parts of life!

So to my parents, especially today Mom, I will be forever grateful that you gave me a sister to love. To my sister, I am blessed and extremely grateful to call you my best friend as well as my sister! Thanks for being YOU!

Shine On!

xo

It Sounds Like A Story To Tell It

If you knew our Mom, you would know that she was fiercely dedicated to making everything even. Growing up, our tradition was that when one of us had a birthday, the other one got a ‘little something’ too. Mom always made sure that we felt special, even when it wasn’t our day.

So it would perhaps come as no surprise that when my sister recently attended a breast cancer fundraiser, that she might win something because she put her raffle tickets into many buckets in the hopes of winning. But when she put her ticket in for number 92, without telling anyone, she said a little prayer and asked our Mom to let me (her sister) win something as I’ve had some health issues. My sister thought this basket looked like it belonged to me as it looked like our Mom. She scattered her other tickets in different baskets, including 95 as she’d always wanted a kindle…

As the gift basket tickets were being called, she was unaware that she won number 92. When her friend pointed out that she had the winning ticket, she went up to claim it and was startled to see that it was the exact basket she had asked our Mom to give to me. A few minutes later when 95 was called and it was her ticket that won, she began to cry and explained to her friend the story.

It was my sister’s birthday the other day. Hence the gifts, equally won, from our Mom to her girls. Even as I write this story to you, I know I am not giving it the justice it deserves because it’s so much more than just winning two baskets. It’s not even about the wins. It’s about the big picture in so many different ways.

It’s about my sister feeling our Mom heard her prayer. It’s about Mom showing that she’s listening. It’s about my sister thinking about me too when she’s at a fundraiser. It’s about the sharing of so many memories together that has so powerfully bonded us in times of strife. It’s about the tradition of giving, even when it’s not your birthday. It’s about inclusion, sisterhood, love and camaraderie. It’s about knowing that nobody else in the world has the childhood memories that we have, nor the silly stories, nor the experiences we’ve been through as we’ve traversed the adult journey into losing our loved ones.

It’s about believing that the veil is thin to the other side. It’s about everlasting, unconditional love which our Mom taught us. It’s about sharing. It’s about gratitude. It’s about kindness. It’s about so much more than I could ever have explained in a post.

So when we went out to lunch, after she shared the baskets with me and we opened them, each of us donned a necklace and smiling the whole afternoon, we enjoyed our time together as we do. As we waited for our table for lunch, we ducked into a small store and found a vase and flower to decorate our lunch table with Mom in mind.

A simple, yet elegant, white dahlia just like Mom. What a beautiful reminder of where we came from and how we’ve grown. Thanks for reading…

Shine On!

xo

Out of the Mouth of Alzheimer’s

Recently I had a precious moment with a loved one who has Alzheimer’s Disease and Dementia.  It came quite unexpectedly as our phone conversation was in the evening which usually brings sundowners for her which means she can become more easily confused.

But on this evening, the woman who spoke to me was a voice from my past, her voice quiet but firm, yet with a softness for which I had hungered for a long time.  My Aunt spoke with me and I sat ready listening with my heart.

At first, I thought that we would just chat, I would make her giggle and then having connected in the only way she has been able, we would say our goodbye and requisite, ‘I love you,’ at the end of the conversation.  But instead, I received a gift that we shared.

She told me that she was happy that I could understand her as it had been hard on her for a long time.  “Words don’t seem to come to me,” she explained in a resigned voice.  “And I can’t say what I want for I don’t know what I want to say.  It’s been a long time since I was able to be understood.”

I waited patiently, stunned by her admission ~ for the last few years, we haven’t been able to have this type of conversation because she simply hasn’t been able to share how she’s feeling.  Words to even express pain weren’t readily available to her, instead a grimace gave us the inkling that something was wrong.

“It’s like I can see the words, but I can’t reach them.  I get confused easily and then everything vanishes.  My brain just refuses to work like I want it to anymore.  I think that I want to say something and then the thought is gone and I just can’t remember what it was.”

I listened with my heart and felt through the phone her ability at that moment to tell me what was going on with her.  She was strengthened by sharing with me and I am ever grateful that we had that time of lucidity together for it had been a long while.

We had a few giggles as elder sisters can when we talk about our younger siblings.  We’ve always had that bond and it was strengthened for a few minutes during our conversation.  In the end, her sister was getting antsy to talk with me, so she explained that she would give the phone back to ‘the baby’ (aka baby sister) and we giggled.

She thanked me for always talking with her and for being her niece.  She told me that she was glad we had a chance to talk and that she knew we may not be able to talk like this again.  I promised to continue to try to translate for her when the words didn’t come easily again.  I could hear us smiling together as she said, “I love you.  I love you with my whole heart.  Please remember that,” and I repeated the same back to her.

She handed the phone off to her baby sister and the moment was over.  When I hung up the phone, tears continued rolling down my face for I knew, in my heart, I had just been given a precious gift which I would never forget.

There was no pity party invite when she told me what was happening with her and how aware she was at that moment in time that words, thoughts, and understanding escape her.  She didn’t ask why.  She didn’t make excuses.  She only wanted to share with me how she felt and I was there, a ready listener to receive her message.  A true moment ~ The Presents of Presence. ♥

And isn’t that what life is all about?  Being there to listen and connect with a kind, loving heartlight?

Shine On!

xo

Still Here…But Barely

I’ve been dealing with a few relatives who have Alzheimer’s and Dementia lately and it’s been pretty hard ~ for them and for me.  It’s amazing to me how quickly this disease can rob our loved ones of their basic mental capacity let alone complex thinking.  But what remains, at least for the ones I’m taking care of, is love.

They know I love them and I know they love me.  So far, we are blessed that each recognizes family members even though they don’t quite know all the details.  Most information seems new to them at times and yet at others, they are quite cognizant of what has occurred recently in their lives (which has been another relative who passed away).

Childhood memories fill their conversations along with much giggling of good times shared for which I am eternally grateful.  Stories are repeated, almost to the letter in a conversation, but the giggle at the end remains the same.  It is the giggling that I relish when they retell their stories.  It is the frustration that I continue to keep at bay as much as possible, dredging up as much patience as I possibly can to answer repeated questions in a simple way in hopes that they can keep the information for a bit longer this time.

But I what I loved the most after spending time with them and getting 2 sisters together for a few days was the love and laughter that they shared even though both are affected by those diseases.  Precious moments were spent watching them as they interacted, finishing each other’s stories and slowly winding down memory lane together arm in arm, heart to heart, sister to sister.

It was tough though I will admit.  Tough to watch, knowing that they may not recognize each other the next time they meet.  Wondering how much longer they will know who I am or remember how many blissful hours they spent over the last few days together.  I watched as I wondered how much longer they will be here, both in mind and body.  Sadly, I thought about them and myself and the loss that is coming.  I lamented in my own mind how much life has changed for them ~ the vibrant women I once knew to now.

Simpler times for sure growing up in a small town in the South.  Watching them banter back and forth, giggling like school girls at times, recalling fun memories and sharing stories.  We kept away from the sad as much as possible as I redirected many a conversation which teetered on the verge of today’s truth.  Light, sweet and joyful was the theme of the conversations as much as possible.  When we began gravitating towards sad truths, I redirected as much as I could with honesty, trying to save their minds from what I know in my heart, they understand ~ that a loved one has passed.

It’s heartbreaking to bear witness to how the mind can completely make and break connections.  One minute, you think they are understanding and the next minute, you realize that they haven’t a clue of what we just talked about and they don’t recognize where they are or who they are seeing (other than me thank goodness).  So far, when I say it’s me, they know me.

What I am grateful for is the hugs, the kisses on the cheek, the love that we share as I watch them begin to descend into the abyss of oblivion.  I want to hold tightly to the memories of my last trip, praying that when I return, there will still be enough there for them to recognize each other and me so that we can share more joy, laughter and love.

But I don’t know quite honestly if my wish can be fulfilled.  So I will be grateful for the memories we shared, for the present moments that we have and for the gratitude that I was able to be there for them both and with them both for as long as I could.

It’s not easy to be a caregiver of family whose brains cease to function as they did.  It’s not easy to witness what is scary for them and for me as reality changes so abruptly.  It’s a big responsibility and I don’t think most of us are prepared for it.  Tears flowed freely as did the occasional giggle when their conversations made me laugh.  I am grateful for those things as well, for life is all about the laughter and the tears, don’t you think?  That and staying present, being grateful and just loving what is right now, this minute.

Shine On!

xo