And Then There Were 6
Growing up in a big family is not always comfortable but it’s always interesting. There are crazy dynamics, lots of unchanneled energy (or channeled in the wrong direction), and it can be quite noisy. You’re usually not alone, even if you want to be.
All my life I had 3 sisters and 3 brothers and there were always seven of us. But now that is no longer the case – there are now six of us for one of us has died.
My oldest sister, Christine, (we all called her Chris but as a grown-up she preferred Christine), passed away after being treated for cancer for over a year. By the time she was diagnosed, the cancer had spread aggressively but the doctors did everything they could to help her. Her cancer was treated as aggressively as it spread, with multiple surgeries, chemotherapy, and radiation when she could tolerate it.
While we were sisters, we were not close. Chris was the oldest of us and I was one of the two youngest. By the time I was 5 years old, she was already graduating high school. Then she moved to the West Coast and I moved to the East Coast and neither of us took the time to visit regularly. There were phone calls and the family text thread and sometimes Christmas cards and birthday cards. But we didn’t have many common experiences.
I have some good memories of her from when I was a little girl, like the time Chris and her friend danced with me in our back yard while we wore blooms from my Mom’s snowball bush in our hair – I think I was 4 or 5 years old. What stands out about that story: Chris didn’t know there was a SPIDER in her bloom! She gently pulled it out of her hair and to my 5-year-old self it seemed like a really big spider. We decided to go inside after that.
Another memory: Right after she married her husband, (they were living in California at the time), they came home to St. Louis to visit so we could meet him – I was about 10 years old and I was just coming to the front door after school. I saw her through the window running to the door saying, “let me open it!” because she was so excited to be home and see each one of us.
In 2017, I was attending a conference in Scottsdale, AZ, where she lived. She didn’t know I was coming to town, and I took a chance and contacted her. I said, “I know this is last minute, but could I come and visit?” Chris said “Of course!” and my brother-in-law Terry picked me up at my hotel and took me to their place. We had a very enjoyable visit and I got to see their dog sitting business “from the inside.” I also got to see their horses and learn about what life is like in a desert environment. She had interesting insights on going from being “the house at the end of the road” to now being surrounded by suburban sprawl and “Easterners” ruining the environment with their water-needy foliage.
Near the end, she was in hospice care, and I wanted to send her something. Chris was at the point where she really couldn’t eat much, so a food basket was not a good choice. I definitely didn’t want to create work for my brother-in-law by sending flowers or a plant. I decided to send her a soft blanket that she could use for staying warm or roll up and use as a pillow. The doctors said that she didn’t have much time -- I was so worried she would die before she got it. Fortunately, the blanket arrived quickly and she got to enjoy it.
The last message I have from her is a text message thanking me for the gift. It turns out the evenings were getting chilly in Arizona so it was something she could really use. Our last communication was a warm and positive one -- it means a lot to me that we ended on a good note.
As far as the shape of the world now, I’m still adjusting. There is one less sister and our family is smaller. Chris is no longer “out there in Arizona” and I will never get another text or birthday card from her. But I do have memories that make me smile.
