Yesterday was the 9 year anniversary of the bridge collapse on the Port Isabel Causeway in South Padre Island. A friend of mine from high school's older sister perished that night as her car plunged over 80 feet into the bay and she drowned. I cannot imagine how hard yesterday was for my friend and her sweet parents whom I have known since middle school. I am not religous, but I thought about her all day long.
Which brings me back to my post for today. On Monday, it will be one year to the day my sister passed away. I remember when I got a phone call from someone who worked for my mom that I needed to come right away and that things had made a turn for the worse in regards to my sister's cancer. I had a mini-breakdown in the home-ec classroom before I pulled myself together and made the trip home. When I got there, my parents were beset with grief. My mom, unable to compose herself long enough to figure out travel arrangements, was weeping at the computer. I got online, found a flight and called American Airline. In a matter of 30 minutes, we were packed and driving furiously down the highway to get to the airport to make the flight, our only option for getting to Washington DC that day. We made it, but barely.
From the flight attendant attempting to get my mom off of her cell phone, to Chili's in the Houston airport giving me a wrong order, to practically running to Scott's car to make it to the hospital to see her that night, the events of that day are as clear to me now as they were then, as I sit here writing this post.
We spent a lot of time at the hospital the next day, and Friday I spent the afternoont getting her condo ready for her to return to under hospice care. She came via ambulance that evening, and her parade of friends came and stayed that evening and most of the following day. The scene still disturbs me because she couldn't speak clearly and hardly stayed awake, and I remember feeling as if I wanted her there alone with just us, her family, as her time left on earth was getting shorter and shorter and those people just wouldn't leave.
On Sunday, I went to Target. I know I had a good reason, but I can't remember what it was, but I do remember looking through the clothes knowing I would need a dark colored dress for some type of funeral service. I came home only to be told that her breathing was getting shallow and she had not woken up since the last evening. She passed away within 2 hours of my arrival back to the condo and I sat there holding her hand. I remember how her hands were so dry and rough, with her cuticals red and angry as she could never leave them alone.
I sat on her right hand side giving my parents closest access to her face. In my head, I told her it was okay to go, to be free of her pain, and that we would love her always. My mother grabbed her and shook her after her last breath, begging her to wake up, but it was not to be. She was gone. Her body remained, but her soul, her self was no longer there.
We packed her stuff and made the "arrangements" the following couple of days. Life would never be the same. My sweet sister, the "good one", my best ally and closest friend, succumbed to breast cancer a mere year and a half after her diagnosis. So, in closing, if anyone is reading this....call your siblings this Monday in honor of my sister. Tell them how much you love them and value them. If you live close enough, stop by and hug them tightly, as we never know how long our own time on earth will be and of those people closest to you. Love, V
