The Plight and the Privilege of the Baby Sister

or, ‘Why Me?’ Part Two

I had my meltdown this morning. I’ve had a few in these past weeks, but this morning was productive. And for those that are believers, you will understand when I say I felt the presence of the Holy Spirit quite vividly in my tears and anguish. Then I picked up the JESUS CALLING devotional and read today’s passage, written just for me, and wept some more.  I will share a snippet here:

     “Instead of wondering about what is on the road ahead or worrying about what you should do if…or when…, you can concentrate on staying in communication with Me. When you actually arrive at a choice-point, I will show you which direction to go.”

That I even ended up on my knees in my God-corner was because Jesus called me there, to stop and listen, in the midst of my morning chores.  I keep a pillow on the floor by my night stand, where an open Bible, the amber glow of a salt lamp, and essential oil of frankincense create a space where my Abba and I commune. Just being there gives me peace, but this morning was special.

As soon as my knees hit that pillow my eyes stung, my throat ached, and I put my face in my hands. I wept, and sobbed, not knowing what to pray for besides God’s will, Joanne’s peace and comfort, and my ability to be and do whatever she needs. And there I go again…trying to do things in my own strength instead of His.

My oldest sister is suddenly battling metastatic adenocarcinoma in her spine and who-knows-where-else. We were supposed to find out where else this past Monday but they rescheduled her appointment to the middle of next week.

I’m not gonna lie. That ticked me off so bad I wanted to march into that office. The old me would have made my displeasure known in not a subtle way. But I’m not what I once was. I’m so grateful for the new tongue-biting talent the Holy Spirit has blessed me with these days.  I have another incident to tell you about regarding this, but not now. My point here is, doesn’t my attitude bring to light how we expect what we want when we want it? It’s as if we are entitled.

I mean, who am I? Why should that doctor know that we expect preferential treatment because we already lost two family members to the big “C”, one of them on her watch? She treated our other sister’s cancers five times over the course of fifteen years. I talk about that in my post entitled “Why Me?”

My sister was a little angry, too, but she shrugged it off and said, “What’s the difference? I know the prognosis will be bad. What’s ten more days to find out?” Then she said, “I just want it to be fast.”

***

Joanne has always been the glue in our family. She is a retired nurse and definitely the most caring, loving, over-nurturing person I know. She took over hosting the holidays for the relatives when they all moved down here. Back home holiday meals all happened at our house, but when they migrated, Mom said she was done. Joanne couldn’t bear to let those traditions die, so, she didn’t. Her life always, always, always has revolved around others’ needs, never her own.

It’s been many years since the last relative passed. Holidays weren’t the same for Jo without all the old Italians, so she made her own family out of co-workers and lone stragglers from church without family. Holidays are meant to be shared. Besides, how do you cook all that food for five people?

My final move back to Florida was in 2007 and by then the relatives were all gone, but we still manage to have at least eight to ten people on Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. Usually New Year’s is a big deal too because it’s Joanne’s birthday. January 1, 1944. First baby born in Rochester, NY that year! Then when she was twelve, oops, along came Linda.

I look at all her quirks and see them in myself. Her nit-picky control issues, her self-doubt, her super loving heart and willingness to go the extra mile for people. I was with her all the time as a little kid. She took me everywhere with her. Her first love had little sisters and we got to be besties. They took us to the circus, the Ice Capades, the drive-in, the beach. Joanne even took me to the Bahamas when I was seventeen. So, you see? My sister-mother, my rock, and my best friend, all in one.

When our parents passed in the eighties I was living in Massachusetts, nowhere near family. Dealing with my parents’ deaths was not too difficult for me because I wasn’t around to be the caregiver or the errand runner. Our dad passed in an instant, in the front yard, cutting the grass. Aneurysm maybe? Nobody ever figured it out. Mom…it took three months from diagnosis to death. My ex-husband, only seven brutal weeks with months of suffering before he even saw a doctor.

I did get to see Mom two nights before she died. God nudged me that time, too, just like he did only weeks before Dad passed. She waited for me, her baby and “her biggest blessing,” as she would say. She wanted my permission to let go. She didn’t really want to do chemo but she tried for us. She told me the night before I flew back to Mass that she didn’t want to treat anymore. I told her that was between her and God, and to do what was best for her, not us. I’m so grateful her cancer journey only lasted three months. This is what Joanne is hoping for.

Me, too, because it kills me to see her suffering with the pain this disease is causing. Pain meds dull it. She took them reluctantly because she had no choice. She’s now on a pain patch because the oral meds were wrecking her gut. I don’t know what’s worse. All opiates carry their own consequences and this woman, who has a pain threshold to the moon and back, doesn’t deserve what is happening to her.

Did Jesus deserve to be beaten to a pulp and die a criminal’s death on a cross? There I go, being entitled again. There’s that ‘why-me’ attitude.

I screamed at God the day Pat took her last breath in my arms. Oh my. The old Linda came out, cussing and throwing God the bird. I shake my head. He is so patient with me and my bad self. I screamed, “This is f@#$%&* ridiculous!! Why does she have to suffer like this??! I know Jesus suffered way more but come onnnnnn!!!!!”

She took her last breath minutes later, at 4:20 pm, on August 24th. He heard me. He took her. And I was grateful, and sad, and at peace, and angry…every emotion possible in the span of ten seconds.

I left home at nineteen and never spent time around my family again, until my parents were long gone and I moved to Florida to be with my sisters. Pat battled a crippling back surgery and cancer while I lived with her. That’s when I took on that role I missed in the eighties. She took her last breath in my arms. Joanne will do the same. I’ve been given the opportunity to do for them what I could not do for our parents.

And therein lies the plight and the privilege of the baby sister.

I am so grateful to be able to find peace in Christ.

I wish the same for you.

PEACE IN CHRIST