This is the 3rd time I'll be going to Seattle this month. Before my sister's stroke, the last time I was in Seattle was for my nephew's - her son's - high school graduation in 2018. Before then, it was sometime before The Bean's birth so before 2014 because I only had one baby then. Because of my babies and our parents' limited mobility, DD often traveled down to see us. She would come when our parents were sick or if I needed help. Or for holidays, special occasions, or funerals.
Two days ago, I thought I was going to say goodbye to my sister. It has been a tough 22-now-23 days. Just about every day my brother-in-law calls with updates. And almost every day, it feels like it's one step forward, two steps back. Because I'll hear that she had a good day, a boring day, and we rejoice in the ordinary of it all. Then on other days, we hear find out she had a setback or that she isn't progressing as they'd like. Most recently, a doctor told my B-I-L that they were not confident my sister would wake up.
In the past 23 days, my heart has broken over and over again. I have imagined the best and I've imagined the worst. The best is her needing major rehabilitation and it's bizarre to think that 23 days ago, that was the worst. One month ago, our mom being in the hospital with pneumonia and the flu was the worst. Two months ago, it was me not knowing what to do with my career. It's incredible how perspectives can change in an instant.
My husband has been a rock for me. He has tried to alleviate some of the responsibilities I have as a parent (he has an awful commute so I take care of all transportation to and from school and activities for our kids, as well as meals). He's also the one who gently but firmly has made sure I'm taking care of my health since my sister had undiagnosed high blood pressure and diabetes. He also has assured me that I can talk to him about all of this so I don't have to keep it bottled up inside.
He told me it seems like I'm taking my sister's crisis much harder than my father's death. I loved my dad very much. He was one month shy of turning 82 years old yet it was still a surprise to all of us when he passed. His passing was very quick, less than 24 hours. It was my mom who had been in the hospital for several weeks just before he passed. I told my husband that while I really missed my dad, I also knew that the body he was living in frustrated him. I knew he hated being frail and having to spend so much time getting dialysis. He was frustrated by his physical limitations and didn't like depending on other people to help him. I took comfort in knowing that he was finally free.
My sister is only 57 years old. Again, perspective is a funny thing. When I was a kid and even a young adult, 57 seemed ancient to me. Now I know there is so much more potential life left, decades in fact. Her son is 22 years old. We didn't talk about it much (I think we didn't want him to feel rushed and, honestly, he IS pretty young) but I know she looked forward to his wedding and him having children. As for me, I was looking forward to the time when I had fewer obligations and could visit her again like I did in my 20s. Visiting her was so peaceful - it's where she taught me how to knit and entertained my interest in going to all the local coffee shops to find the best coffee. And finding places that potentially made the best oatmeal. We would knit and drink tea or coffee and chat. Or take walks. I cherished those times and, just like how I felt about going to Hawaii with my girlfriends, I looked forward to the time when I could make those visits with her again.
We are never promised tomorrow, I know. But when going through the day-to-day, one can't help but get pulled into the daily routine and think that one day in the future, we can look forward to the things we want to do. And I unwisely assumed that my sister would always be there because she always had been. Since I was born. So her life hanging in the balance is shocking to me. It's something I've never imagined. And it's devastating. I cling to hope and sometimes wish I didn't because when I hear that she may not ever be with us, I am gutted. And this has happened over and over again. But as my B-I-L has written, where this is life, there is hope. And my sister continues to breathe on her own. So I pray throughout the day that she will wake up soon, whole and healthy.
