
The eighth anniversary of our mom Sue’s passing was this past Monday. I knew it might be a tricky day for Lisa, my disabled sister, so I was prepared with extra energy and love to help her over any rough patches. Our beloved cousin, Dan, passed away just a few months ago and Lisa’s still struggling with this additional loss in our small family.
Lisa calls every night at 6pm (or thereabouts – lately she’s had a more active social life than me and can be a little late with her call which really messes with my internal body clock. I tell time based on Lisa’s nightly check-in). 😉
I was prepared for my “Lisa call” to occur a little early on Monday, given the wave of mixed-up memories she might’ve been feeling about mom/Sue. But that didn’t happen. Lisa called at her regular time and after the rundown of her day’s activities (what she ate at each meal and her restaurant-critic-like appraisal for good measure) she found her way to mentioning Sue. “You know it’s been eight years today since mom died”, Lisa said, breathlessly and rapidly as if she needed to get the words out in a torrent or she’d lose her nerve.
“Yes, I know. It’s hard to believe” I replied. I wasn’t sure where Lisa’s memories might take her so I held back, letting her continue. And she did. “I think”, she whispered, “They’re all together now…Dad, Mom, Dan, Sadie and all the other dogs…Phaedra, too.” I liked where she was going with her conclusion. “All together” is a good thing and I praised her insight: “I bet you’re right and if we know Dad and Dan they’re watching baseball or golf on TV and enjoying meatball subs.”
I knew that would get a giggle out of Lisa and she didn’t disappoint. The rest of our conversation was about her memories of meatballs and silly family incidents around food and laughter. It wasn’t until the end of our call that she got tearful and said, “I told mom I forgave her. She still knows, right?”. That was a whopper – prompting tears even now as I share with you. I took a deep breath and in an overly high octave (intended to cloak the choke in my throat) I reassured Lisa, saying, “Oh goodness, yes. She did the best she could, and she knew you loved her.” And that was all Lisa needed to hear. In a blink she said she needed to go – her friend Jen was calling from Indiana, and she needed to talk to her before she watched her evening HGTV programs.
Loving Lisa. The gift that keeps on giving and I’m grateful. “All together now”? That thought brings peace.
Vicki ❤
Photo by Carl David on Pexels.com


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