I have been thinking a lot about sisters this week. Cjane has written lots about her sister(s) this year, and I surprised myself with my reaction to seeing her sister's new face. Lots of people posted comments about how beautiful Steph is, how she's even more beautiful than before, and I concur. I did see light in those eyes, light that reflects the spirit inside. The sister Courtney loves is still here, maybe even better than ever. Maybe refined by the fire.
While I am so grateful for the blessings that have graced their family, I find myself a little bit sad, even envious. Not (oh, heavens NO) that I would EVER wish a fiery plane crash on ANYONE, least of all a loved one, sometimes I'd rather have my sisters suffer a tragic accident with their souls intact than what they are struggling with/have struggled with. I wish I could post a blog about my sister's struggles, about her good heart and her four beautiful children and her handsome, hard-working, long-suffering husband and garner donations to send her to the residential treatment she needs but can't afford. Because I want my sister back, dang it.
[
Sam, Jill, Dana in 1989]
Like anyone who is watching a loved one struggle, I get so tired. My heart just feels cracked and heavy. For all the joys, the security, the happiness and fun I enjoy with my nuclear family, there is still so much pain in my family of origin (I know God knew it would be like this; I know in my heart he anticipated my needs in giving me an infinitely patient and loving husband who provides security and comfort for me as I deal with each extended family struggle, past and present; I am not unaware of or ungrateful for that).
A few times last week things got quiet and I wanted to just call up my sister and chat, and then I remembered that I can't do that anymore. She can't just call and bounce ideas off me or tell me funny things the kids did or give me dinner ideas because she is in rehab. And even if she weren't in rehab, the drugs she has been taking seem to have changed her brain just enough that it's hard to find my sister in there anyway. We don't share the same lifestyle anymore, at least for now. That brings a painful little stab to my heart, as does the thought, "another one bites the dust." Poor choices, bad luck, enslaving habits, etc. have taken their toll on my relationship with 5 of my 7 sisters, this time on the one that has been my best friend in my married life. Most of the time I have a strong, faithful, healthy perspective on this, but sometimes I get really angry. And by angry, I mean hurt, sad, disappointed, and tired (it feels like I have been going through this forever, because I pretty much have been for the past 20 years). And by angry, I mean furious that Satan hates happy families, and I am sick of his shennanigans. Frustrated. And more sad.
[holy freaking 80's! that' me, Lisa, & Laura circa 1987]
I know it's going to take time. I can be patient. But my Sabbath prayer this week (besides hoping my Georgia is cancer-free) is: TAKE AWAY THIS BALL & CHAIN! I WANT MY SISTER BACK!
***
Speaking of Steph, she posted
THIS yesterday, and it is just so appropriate. It's for you, Jill. I love you. It's for Drew, and for everyone who loves you and is in "critical condition" with you.