Sorry, this post began as a way to celebrate a baby sister, but kind of migrated into a self-deprecating catharsis. Not the funny kind.
There are 3 of us. I am the oldest, Misty and Marisa are my juniors with Marisa being the youngest. I don't know if inseparable is the right word to describe us as children. Insufferable, perhaps. But we did love and tolerate one another as siblings will. I don't think I appreciated my little sisters like I should have. Marisa was sweet as pie, but Misty and I would rub each other the wrong way on a pretty regular basis. Normal kid stuff.
I do remember at one point during my childhood/big brother career, really feeling like they looked up to me. That they respected my role and who I was becoming. Though, I never felt like I deserved that kind of admiration, they gave it nonetheless.
As adults, we drifted apart. Both of my younger sisters went into the world, as did I, meeting and marrying, bearing children and leading lives of their own.
Estranged is a strong, vitriolic word, but it aptly describes my relationship with my two lovely-though-sometimes-difficult baby sisters, especially Misty. After a stellar youth and high school career, Misty married a military man and they moved away. She lived a number of places in Tennessee, Kentucky, Florida and other places. I didn't agree with some of her choices and she didn't agree with mine. The distance made it easy to ignore each other. 25 years went by.
I often would think of my sisters, the men in their lives, their children and I would pray that someday we could reconcile and be a family. But I would always remember how frustrating life was with them as children. That was a thinking error.
There was trauma in our young lives and I unfairly mixed those memories with the recollection of my relationship with both of my sisters. Neither Misty nor Marisa were the source of the trauma, they were sharers and victims of it. My shame is that, even as the girls went through adulthood, faced heartache and loss, dealt with new traumas and losses... I kept my distance.
You have to understand, part of my fiber and conscience is to avoid situations and personalities that are decidedly walking paths contrary to what is right. Misty and Marisa chose many times to walk those paths. So, keeping distance, to me was morally and ethically correct to my Bible-trained conscience. Plus, it was just easier (and lazier) to leave those relationships on a shelf. February 27, 2016 re-calibrated my sense of decorum when dealing with traumatic situations.
For 25 years, when they succeeded in life, bearing children and celebrating accomplishment, I didn't call. When my sister's relationships struggled, then crumbled, I didn't call. When Misty lost a child in death... I. Didn't. Call.
Oh my God.
I can't believe that ever made sense to me. It's monstrous to abandon someone you love when they desperately need support. I'm a student of the Bible, I know what it says about love. That was anything but. It was cowardly. And, quite probably contributed to the decision Misty made to enter the relationship that lead to current state.
February 27 opened my eyes to a LOT of things.
Two months ago, my sister (a junior of 17 months) was a victim of domestic violence that left her in a coma for two weeks. Her diagnosis is inconclusive but bears the hallmarks of brain hypoxia as a result of forced oxygen deprivation. That means brain damage. The good news is that she's come a long long way from when I first saw her hooked to a ventilator and unconscious, lying in ICU. She can now walk and almost knows how to use a spoon. Misty can laugh, if you amuse her. An effort we make at every opportunity.
She can cry too. We learned this when our last remaining grandparent passed away April 5th, 2016. I wasn't sure Misty would comprehend the situation, but when we took her to the funeral home, it was clear she knew exactly what was going on, even if she couldn't respond using normal social mores.
She is getting smarter every day, though we can tell that she gets frustrated as there is an obvious disconnect between her mind and her body.
Bear with me as I work through my feelings for my little sister(s) visually and via shoddy prose.
My little sister.
Love and trouble, right from the start.
A wonder of the world,
with a gross little belly button
And hair so dark!
Hey Little Sister, you're really really great
And it's killing me to see you in your state.
Please come back
And come back soon,
We're getting tired of this spoon.
#artofmiggy #sister #projectmisty #sketchbook #domesticviolence #cure4Mimi #feb27 #braininjurygirl
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