The Hand

Sunday marked another year without my sister.

We were almost 3 years apart in age. Close enough to grow up with each other but far enough apart to not have much in common. 

We shared the same childhood but from two very different perspectives and outcomes. 

Sitcom families always put the responsibility on the older one to be more mature and to take care of their siblings. On the other hand, the "babies" of the family were allowed to be more mischievous and "get away with murder." 

These personas did not fit us. I always felt the burden of being the one to not cause trouble and hold more responsibility while my sister's acting out was eventually more expected than disciplined. 

She did not take care of me or even show interest in me and the less we interacted the better our coexistence became. 

My perspective, of course. Not hers.

So, when she passed away, and I was contacted by one of her friends on social media, I merely assumed it would be a generic condolence. It was not. 

It was a simple "I can't imagine how you are feeling right now knowing that your sister passed away while not liking you." Uhm, excuse me. 

Not liking me? Is that what she told you?

I don't know why or how quickly my blood began to boil but it did.

I was the one that did everything right. I took care of you. I got nothing in return, And YOU didn't like ME?

"Well, guess what, sister, I didn't like you!"

Those words about her could have easily come out of my mouth, but, coming out of hers was unthinkable. At least then and especially in that moment.

I have looked back on it many times over the years and my perspective, without knowing hers, of course, has changed. Even my perspective on her friend has changed too.

Maybe she just phrased it poorly. Maybe she was just a blunt person. Maybe it was something she needed to say to me. 

As far as my sister, I realize now it wasn't easy being her which also circles back to different perspectives.

The challenges we faced together manifested themselves inside of us in very different ways. What I saw, what I felt, and how I coped with it all wasn't the same way she did. 

It was always evident, at every phase, she was struggling. Struggling in relationships. Struggling in marriage. Struggling in life. 

And just like that, she was gone. Another thing, to add to the list of things I didn't like about her.

Then, I started to realize...

Watching each other and how we handled it all so differently from the very beginning and along the way, didn't make us confidantes. 

Or even friends. 

But I knew then as much as I do now, that we did love each other, even if we had trouble finding a common ground where we could have expressed it.

I have also realized...

Time doesn't erase the loss but it can change how you carry it.

You begin to understand how precious even the ordinary moments were.

Learning to live with loss and giving yourself the grace to not have it all figured out is what the beginning of healing can look like. 

But it takes more than that to get to a place where grief and growth can exist together. 

However, you first have to realize that growth doesn't cure grief. It holds its hand.

You can carry the pain forward as you continue living alongside it. 

I realize now, many years later, that her friend had trouble validating what my loss felt like because she didn't fully understand our relationship. 

She may have wanted me to elaborate my feelings then but I chose not to respond.

Today, I would tell her this:

When a close relationship ends in death, the grief is straightforward.

When it is a complicated relationship, the grief is often doubled. 

I wasn't just processing the loss, but, the harsh realization that things could have been different all those years if we had of tried.

Holding the hand of complicated grief means that you can't re-write history or pretend the relationship was anything else than it really was.

You are thrown into dark rooms that are immune to boundaries you protected and family dynamics you blamed.

Only death can slam those kind of doors at you.

and only healing can reach out and open them if you take the hand.

I chose to take the hand. 

It has helped me to grieve differently but the way I need to.

I have acknowledged both truths.

Respecting my boundaries and weeping for how it all turned out are my truths.

Admitting them both have allowed me to grieve.

To my sister, I would say this:

It was a heavy emotional landscape that neither of us knew how to navigate and with you gone, I have become the person that has to find the path to put us on that we deserved.

Without you, and a clear road map, I have:

Honored the complexity of our reality rather than trying to fit us into a traditional mold.

Released us from the "never was" and only mourned the "what it could have been."

Allowed our perspectives to coexist without judgement or blame.

Created rituals of ways I celebrate you by doing things you enjoyed to do.

Moved my boundary from each other to block us from unsupportive people so we don't have to justify or explain our relationship to people who do not or do not want to understand.

Said it out loud for you to hear "I love you" and felt you saying it back. 

Continued to hold growth's hand for both of us.

Hidden

The older I get, the more I realize:

Peace is my most valuable asset. My energy is my responsibility. Slow progress is still progress. These things I hold dearly. So, having to possibly disrupt or sacrafice them at this stage of my life to find more income, is weighing on him. 

Also, I haven't had to actively search for a job in quite awhile as I have spent the last decade volunteering and making a living doing services for people I know or through word of mouth.

I also haven't had to understand until lately how much more difficult it is being 54 and not 34 looking for employment. 

10 applications - nine of them ignored and one very quick "sorry, but, you are not qualified." Hello? Excuse me, but, yes, I am. Qualifications that span over my lifetime kind of qualified, actually, that you quickly dismissed without explanation.  How rude. 

But, beyond all that, there has been a deepening of hard emotions building inside me. A heart palpitation here, an unprompted sadness there, another uncontrollable cry, and this increasingly ignored distraction.....sitting in me.....surfacing.....commanding my attention. My father's anniversary of the day he died is this week. 

There is this part of grief that I have never really heard anyone talk about maybe because it is more felt than named. When a loved one dies, there is a piece of you that is not just broken, but shattered, making it impossible to repair. 

That piece of you is what the other person brought out in you. ONLY that person brought it out in you. Sides of you that only they got to see and you got to feel. A softness in their voice and the right words you always needed to hear. A feeling of being lighter, happier, braver, and safer when they were near. 

And when they are gone, that piece of you leaves with them and never returns. 

I don't just miss him. I miss who I was with him. So, in a sense, I am also mourning myself on his anniversaries. It is a hidden and heavy grief to carry when you know it was everything to you and now it all gone, that person and that version of you. 

I've spent years trying to honor that version of myself by living with more intention, saying the words others may need to hear, being supportive and kind and encouraging as he was to me. But, man, that void of not getting it back the same way, well it hurts. 

I am grateful for the years I had it and the wonderful traits he naturally brought out in me. Because of him, I know who I am and what I am capable of. That is the gift that softens the hurt. 

 

 

Soul Friends

I recently spent a night out with old friends. It was long over due. We're talking decades in the making. 

From the very beginning, it turned out to be the most impactful and fulfilling gathering that we, undoubtedly, needed so much. 

As if acting like giddy teenagers all over again wasn't enough, this evening was highlighted by a flood of memories, reflections, belly laughing, toasting special loved ones that have passed and a refreshing amount of honesty that can only be shared with people who know you so well. 

It was full of every emotion possible and it made me realize something very special:

There are certain friendships that change you forever.

Not because they're perfect but because they are imperfectly rooted inside of you— in a loyalty, trust, and unwavering support kind of way that you have not only earned but gifted to each other.

It grows out of years of sharing laughter and tears. 

It is held together with sacred memories and a profound sense of safety and peace that surrounds them.

It is real, raw, and uncommon enough that once you feel it, it becomes a part of you and them. 

It stays cradled in your hearts and gently surfaces to remind you of happier times when you need it most. 

It settles into your bones with an odd sense of familiarity, like it has been there before. 

It is a rare connection, so true and deep, that it remains untouched by years and distance. 

It has a life of its own and rejoices when your paths cross again because it recognizes each others souls.

There is an ancient Gaelic phrase for this kind of unique friendship called Anam Cara - used to describe your soul friends that walk beside you, understanding your spirit without the need for masks or pretenses. 

They are your mirrors that reflect back to you the truest form of who you really are, and, in turn, you are forever grateful for finding them in this lifetime and the next because you know how rare and beautiful this kind of friendship really is.

Cheers to my Anam Caras, and another sacred memory of a night of hugs and belly laughs with you!

When the Brakes Are Broken

Overreactions, random anger, fatigue, lack of empathy, impaired judgement, low attention span, impulsive behavior, inappropriate comments, depression.....All symptoms of a frontal lobe brain injury.

Self help groups will tell you these changes are "Not excuses, it's neurology." 

Caregiver support groups will tell you "It's like being stuck in an abusive relationship that you should never make excuses for."

Neither approaches have helped me. 

We have been married for 22 years and I have spent 11 of them navigating our life and relationship through and around his brain injury.

I have never written about it but I feel like it's time for me to share my feelings instead of just thinking them in the hopes that it not only lifts some burdens but encourages someone else going through something similar.

Brain injuries don't just change the person who was injured. It changes every single relationship people have with them. The conversations, connections, the balance. All of it shifts and instead of being able to get closer to them, the injury usually kicks in and propels you further apart. 

The daily overstimulation, mood swings, exhaustion, heightened reactions, and watching the person not being able to control it, feels like watching someone ride a bike when the brakes are broken. The more momentum that is given to the pedals, the bigger the crash will be when it can't stop and comes to its own end. I have spent years trying to fix the brakes. Counseling, medication, hyperbaric oxygen, THC, light therapy....You name it, I have had him try it. Nothing has significantly worked so I have, with guilt, ignored the brakes and tried to just get him off the bike, but, he won't listen and back on the bike he goes.

It's been an unusually rough year on top of several difficult ones. As a result, the marital edges that were already frayed have begun to tear, and, the unusual but pure lack of emotional strength I have to mend them, has made for some long and trying months. 

After a difficult turn of events, carrying the weight of being a one person show, as I usually am, has just been harder. More emotional. More exhausting. More suffocating. There have been so many situations lately where having a loving and supportive spouse help would have been so welcomed. For every opportunity he had, he either did not notice it or chose not to take it. Every time it felt like more weight be added on top of me. Over time, I managed to get through it but I also had to pep talk myself along the way more so than I have ever done. 

And so, I type, this as a reminder to myself that I am alone but not lonely. I am fragile but not broken. I am beaten down but I haven't given up. I am overwhelmed but I am capable.

I am my own self help and support group. 

I think it would have been more helpful if I was told straight from the beginning that, as much as I would love to have someone to scoop me up, cradle, and comfort me on the really hard days, well, harsh as it may seem, that person is gone. 

Luckily, I have always been the one to scoop, cradle and comfort, so, there's that, I guess.....

All joking aside, there is no real preparation or course of action for the emotional, financial, physical, and psychological tolls a brain injury causes. It takes immense resilience and adaptability to get through this as a spouse, and, if there is an upside, it's personal growth I have gotten out of this. I've tested my boundaries and developed new skills, established good routines, learned to prioritize self care, and found odd senses of fulfillment and pride for the way I have stepped up and maneuvered quite well through these years while solely taking care of my husband, children, and myself. If that is the trade off, then, that's okay. 

Ultimately, I think when you allow yourself to realize and accept the brakes are broken, you should just stop trying to fix them and I have finally told myself that's okay too. 

Freedom

A day after I wrote a post about kindness, there is another school shooting at a high school in Colorado and a presumed political assassination at a Utah college of a conservative leader in youth activism. 

As if being bogged down with the magnitude of responsibility I have had to take on and the strong emotions I have over it (another post in itself), I am growingly disgusted with this country and the constant turn of events that continually anger and sadden me. I am sick of being tired, concerned, and  angry over the conduct and actions of the United States. We are broken, and, even scarier, we lack the necessary leadership, concern, and dedication to fix it.

As long as I can remember I have been taught about this country's super power we call freedom. Freedom of speech, religion, the press, and the right to assemble and petition the government in particular. Well, how's that going for you, America?? 

Let's test these freedoms against the cold hard facts of the society we live in right now:

Do you feel like you are allowed to express your ideas and opinions without fear of censorship or punishment? (Charlie Kirk assassination) 

Do you feel comfortable practicing your religion freely? (Children killed at a catholic school mass in Minnesota)

How about freedom of the press? Do your credentials protect your right to cover stories freely? (The Los Angeles Police Department firing projectiles at journalists covering immigration protests)

And last but not least, "the right to assemble and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances." Just be aware that the backlash of exercising this right, is to be possibly arrested if you are a student protester and have your own president defund colleges supporting protests, for example. Then, taking it one step further, how about just and fair legal representation for these arrests? You know when the American Bar Association has filed a lawsuit against the U.S. government asserting that "the Trump Administration was intimidating lawyers and law firms who took on clients the president disliked" is not a great start to getting good legal representation for those with disfavored views.

If someone googles the year 2025 in the future, their search is going to be consumed with the Diddy trial, the Epstein files, gun violence, Ice Agents, the National Guard, tariffs, .... I think you get the point.

What you won't find is the word Freedom.

Blame the democrats, the republicans, the liberals, the conservatives, the guns, mental health, religion, sexuality and all the other ways outrage has been expressed and labeled as the reasons we got ourselves into this mess. Here is the main shock that might throw all of the mud slingers right over the edge....despite what your feelings are, all of these people you are blaming have one common factor....They are all AMERICANS and that title comes with the power of them and their beliefs being protected by the Constitution. Your words only perpetuate the problem and actually fuel the fire for more violence. 

When you take away freedom, you take away the heart of America. We should not be categorized as anything but Americans and there is nothing beneficial when we decide to alienate and not support certain Americans by labeling, dismissing, condemning or attacking them for not fitting into what we think is right for this country. We should all be so angry that Americans are attacking other Americans. Until we realize that is the real issue, we will never even begin to find freedom again. 

Be Kind

“The kinder and the more thoughtful a person is, the more kindness he can find in other people. Kindness enriches our life; with kindness mysterious things become clear, difficult things become easy, and dull things become cheerful.” Leo Tolstoy

Leo Tolstoy (1828-1910) was a Russian novelist that lived a privileged life, and, yet, felt an emptiness and a loss of faith about humanity and its unfairness towards its social classes. In a yearning to understand its complexities, he found quite the opposite, its simplicity. No matter how hard the peasant farmers worked,  he observed an unwavering strength to fulfill their existences no matter their circumstances. They accepted death because of their profound faith, and they had a sense of freedom he lacked because of the anxieties they escaped by having little to lose. 

Tolstoy further realized that you can't just see society as a whole as it has to be made up of individuals first. Each person has their own vital part to contribute, comparing it to how the human body is made up of trillions of cells. 

Through observing the common bond the peasants had and how it guided the way they treated each other, he realized kindness was the basis of their simple foundation and it guided them to their own form of hope and happiness that he had never seen before among his wealthy and unkind counterparts. 

Fast forward to now, we know through extensive research that kindness is not only beneficial but has the ability to transform the mind, body, and even our relationships when practiced and applied. Seen as an antidote to anxiety and stress, it boosts our mental and physical health by combating feelings of loneliness, reducing cortisol levels, lowering blood pressure, and fostering greater empathy and compassion.

Beyond ourselves, it has the potential to create positive interactions and connections in society too which grows stronger communities by deepening our relationships and encouraging others to do the same. 

Each act of kindness, whether it's donating to charity, volunteering, participating in community events, or even just opening a door for a stranger or giving a compliment, makes a real and significant difference.

As a parent who focused on kindness and who has seen and felt firsthand the many ways it has nurtured our family's lives and relationships, I say let's not just raise nice kids but kind kids. If you lay the foundation, set the example, and provide encouragement and opportunities, you will witness and benefit from the results. When started and practiced early, it is more likely to adhere and continue into adulthood. 

Can you imagine how profoundly different our world would be right now if all of us had kindness prioritized as a principal component in raising children?

The Master of Meatloaf

 I'll never forget my dad, the master of meatloaf with a secret recipe that remains a mystery, and, his iconic pep talks that always ended in an enthusiastic "Go get em, tiger!"

This Father's Day, I celebrate a dad who made every holiday special, stepped up to volunteer when it was only moms, and, showed me and everyone else that age is irrelevant when it comes to raising kids and riding rollercoasters. 

Happy Father's Day