Mourning In June

MOURNING IN JUNE

Most people, no let me rephrase, snowbirds flee Florida in summer in search of a better climate in which to live.  I know that because my mother is a snowbird.  I also know that because on early July in the mid 1990’s, my late husband and I closed on our winter condo and went to Florida to set up housekeeping and prep the place for rentals when we were not in residence.  That experience firmed for me a resolution to never go back in the summer again.  It was so hot, that we did not even want to go into the swimming pool except early in the morning or late in the afternoon. 

But this year, in June I had no choice but to fly to Florida to say goodbye to my sister, who was finally, after four and half years of struggle, losing her battle with ovarian cancer.  She had fought valiantly and lived longer than anyone had hoped.  But, the doctors had determined that chemo was no longer working.  The kind that had put her in remission didn’t help and there was nothing coming down the pipeline and her body was giving out from both the cancer itself and the chemo.  She too was tired.  Tired of being in pain, tired of surgeries, treatments, tests, doctor’s appointments and all that way of life, she had told me three weeks earlier that she had come to the end of her patience with all of it.  I had said, while watching her go through the struggle, that for many, like her, their identity becomes subsumed and the become “cancer.” 

She had told me that the doctors had informed her that they had no idea how much time she had left, but she was planning to go on our annual trek to Cape Cod in early August and celebrate her birthday in late September, however, those hopes were never to see fruition.  Her body gave out in weeks.  It is not for me to guess what was going through her mind, but if I were to guess, I think that whatever relief had been attained in the chemo was gone and her spirit was defeated by the beating it was getting from her body. 

Her husband called me on a Thursday afternoon and informed me that if I wanted to see my sister before she went on “the heavy drugs” I should come soon.  Her daughter told me that she and my sister’s best friend were planning a “slumber party” for the weekend and could I come after the weekend.  Knowing that it takes almost a full day to fly from Southern California to the west coast of Florida, I booked our trip for Sunday.  We arrived at Sarasota airport at 8:30 p.m.  A friend picked us up and drove us to my sister’s house.  We arrived to find the house completely dark.  I called my niece, who informed me that she had called while we were in flight to inform us that my sister had been moved to hospice earlier in the day.  As an aside, that voice mail came to my cell phone at midday the next day.  My friend drove us over to the hospice, where we found my niece, brother-in-law and the best friend sitting around a table in a patio area eating a late supper.  After a while sitting and getting caught up on my sister’s horrendous weekend and her present condition, we went in to her room to say goodnight.  My sister was awake, as the nurse had just checked on her and was leaving the room as we entered.  Her husband spoke with her first and then they brought me over to bedside.  I stroked her arm and told her I love her, and some other soothing words.  She smiled at me, and mumbled something.  I do not know whether she knew it was me, or thought I was our mother, but I will always be grateful for those few moments, to say goodbye.  Shortly into this short interlude, her breathing became very changed and labored.  My niece, who is a doctor, moved me away, indicated she thought this meant that my sister was imminently dying.  She suggested we leave, and leave her and her father to spend those last moments with her.  I asked my brother-in-law where he wanted us to spend the night as I had a choice of the guest room at his house or at my mother’s condo about twenty minutes away.  He requested we go to his house and wait. 

My sister did not die that night, she rallied about an hour after we left and they slept there that night to be with her.  Shortly after they woke the next morning, she quietly stopped breathing. I am glad that I got to see her and speak with her, and see that she was at peace.  It somehow makes it easier to deal with her death knowing that she went with such ease and grace.

We spent the next six days, in Florida heat.   For the first three days, we were so busy with details, family, friends, and rituals that we hardly noticed where we were or what was going on in the out of doors.  Except for walking the dog, or holding conversations on the patio, we were hardly outside.  But, after her funeral we didn’t see the sun again, until getting off the plane back in California.  It got hotter and hotter each day and the humidity rose to such a point that you couldn’t even quite tell the difference between when it was raining and when it wasn’t. 

Returning to California, I finally had some alone time, some time to reflect on my feelings and emotions, I was grateful to find that June in California weather -wise was restorative. I have contemplated where I might live sometime in the future.  Sarasota is my choice as it was a refuge for me after the death of my first husband, but I am now aware that if that is my choice, I will need to have a place to spend the summer which offers a more comfortable climate.  That kind of climate will forever remind me of that week of mourning my sister. 

In this blog, I am attaching the series of poems that were inspired by the experience of contemplating the potential of my sister’s death, and the death itself, and then the last, called “After” was written for my brother-in-law and others who find themselves changed by losing a spouse. 

My Sister is Going to Die

My sister is going to die,

Not tomorrow,

And maybe not the next day,

But the end is in sight,

That’s what she told me yesterday.

My sister is going to die,

No tomorrow,

And maybe not  next week,

But the chemo isn’t helping any more

After five years of struggle.

My sister is going to die

Not tomorrow,

And maybe not next month,

They’ve called in hospice

To help her manage the pain.

My sister is going to die,

Not tomorrow

And maybe not the month after,

All I can hope is that she can

Have some quality of life until…

My sister is going to die

Not tomorrow,

And maybe not the month after that

I want to do something,

But I cannot figure out what.

My sister is going to die

Not tomorrow,

But possibly before the year is out,

She has been part of my life

Since I was three,

She will leave a hole. 

My sister is going to die,

Not tomorrow,

But, it is inevitable.

No one can stop it,

We all want to,

Please God we’re not ready. 

Autumn Tree

The tree has lost it’s leaves

All of the twigs and branches

Are showing their fraility

In the late autumn of her life.

She lives between the hope and despair

Her life has been revoked

By the sponginess that has invaded her body

And has turned to concrete.

She knows deep within

In the place where cancer has not

Yet taken up residence

That she is the same girl,

That she has always been.

Even if life has changed

The outside, the trappings

Deep within, that girl child

Lives, dances and plays,

In spite of the knowledge,

In spite of the pain.

The tree of her life is fading,

Reflected in the waters that

Surround her,

The leaves have long floated downstream

But she remembers the days,

When she was fully clothed in green,

The tree that created the shelter

That embowered her family.

Her departure will leave an empty space

A stump, where those left behind can come

To share memories, that keep alive

The bright and shining girl child,

That lived within the trunk. 

Sister Died

My sister died this morning

It was peaceful,

She was ready

I am not sure we were

I sure wasn’t

She was my little sistr

Younger than me,

By three years,

And all my life, that I can remember

She’s been there with me.

She was the middle

Sandwiches between two strong personalities

It could not have been easy

But life doesn’t give us choices

A lesson she has just proved

Not my only sister,

Not my favorite sister,

How can one choose a favorite

She was her, uniquely, specially her

And now she is gone.

Memories abound for me,

From childhood days, when we were only two,

Hearing of the birth of our sister,

Walking to school, playing and spatting and

Sharing, always sharing.

I could talk about so much

The holidays we spent together

Sharing joys of parenthood

And all those simchas,

Births, weddings, bar mitzvahs , birthdays

Anniversaries and so much more.

Celebrate the good times,

Be together for the joys,

Life has enough tsoris and sadness

And she was there for that too,

Especially there for that.

My sister died this morning

But it is only her body that has gone,

Her soul remains behind

With her husband and her children

And her grands

My sister died this morning,

And there’s no more time

To say, “I’m sorry”

Sorry for the wroings, even small ones

Even ones that weren’t meant,

I’m sorry I wasn’t a better sister.

My sister died this morning

And last night,

Thank God,

I had a chance to say “Goodbye

And I love you.

My sister died this morning

And I was there to hug

Her husband and her daughter,

To share the sadness and the beauty

Of her passing

Goodbye, Sis

Thank you, for being you

Being there for me,

And leaving behind the light

That shines in the eyes

Of your children and their’s.

After

After the shiva is over

After the guests depart

And the family all goes home

Leaving behind, so much

And yet, leaving behind

An emptiness, a gaping chasm

Where your life used to be.

The house is quiet,

The house is empty

Of all but memories

And you, you alone

Where there were two.

After tumult, after chaos

Of too many people,

Too much noise,

Too,  much food,

And oh so much love expressed

By so many who mean so well,

But are not him or her.

In Judaism, one sits shiva

For a week, for a reason,

So that by the time the week is up

You want, you crave, you need

The quiet, the peace that comes

When you are alone.

But, still even then,

There comes into your heart

What, what, what am I supposed to do

Now?

How do I…

Go on, go forward, continue

Without the other, the one who made

You whole.

Now, comes the hard part

The hard times,

The place where there is no roadmap

No right way,

And also no wrong way.

There is only the way,

You walk.

Lots of people have lots of

Advice.

It helps to listen,

It helps to ignore,

It doesn’t help at all.

Some know, but even they

Don’t know,

What’s right for you.

What is right for you,

Is only what is right for you

My only advice, I give this to all

Going through hard times,

Is to only look at where your foot

Is going in the next minute.

Looking ahead, is too hard

Looking too far ahead is scary

The one you lost,

Does not want you to lose

Yourself in grief,

But grief is healing,

Time is healing,

Just go slow,

One minute at a time,

If need be,

Being sad is okay.

Give yourself permission

To be yourself,

To love yourself

And one day, I promise

I’ve been there

One day, you will wake up

To find that you are okay,

Sadder, but okay.