So much has happened. I want to start by thanking those of you who reached out to me over the past six months. I appreciate that you noticed I was MIA. Those of you who didn’t notice, that’s okay. I appreciate you too.
The past 18 months has reminded me, and my family, that we are only human. Not that we didn’t realize it – intellectually at least – but it has become crystal clear.
I am from a family of six kids. We stretch over a 12 year span. The boys are the bookends. The four sisters are within 5 years of each other. I’m the oldest sister.
Like all families, we have had our share of heartbreak. We lost our parents young. They were young and so were we. Our Mom passed in 1977 at the age of 52. She died after a prolonged battle with cancer. When she passed there were still 3 kids at home, the youngest was 13. Five years later, our big, strong Dad dropped dead of a massive heart attack at Lane’s Drugstore. He was 62.
Somehow, we got through it.
Lots of families fall apart when the parents are gone. That never occurred to us. We grew closer. We didn’t see any other option. And over the next 30 plus years we’ve been there for each other through it all.
In February of 2014, Other Half and I made the decision to dismantle our “normal” life and take to the Open Road. We were on our way to Iowa to check out a 10-year old motorhome when my phone rang. It was my sister Mary. She had spent the night in the ER. At 3:00 AM, a less-than-compassionate doctor had informed her – she likely had cancer.
In a cruel twist, the diagnosis was confirmed six weeks later on the very day her beautiful granddaughter, Journee Louise was born.
And so it began.
Other Half and I spent the next 9 months preparing to hit the road. My sister spent the time dealing with doctors, nutritionist and well-meaning family and friends. She remained positive and did all she could to reassure those who loved her that she would be fine. We all wanted to believe her.
On November 7, 2014, we turned over the house to the new owners and headed out. For the next 7 months Other Half, our pup Rigby and I adjusted to life on the road. Mary and I talked every couple days. My sister Cindy lives in the area and became the primary point of contact for the siblings.
It’s hard to be happy when someone you love is hurting. I flew back to Ohio in January. She was struggling and losing weight at an alarming rate. She jokingly informed me that I was now the “fattest” sister.
Other Half and I came back to Ohio at the end of May. I spent as much time as possible with her. We tried to do normal stuff. It was a struggle for her. When she was up to it, we shopped, and went to lunch. That girl could shop. She had lost so much weight, nothing fit her. She also loved buying her husband, Jack, yet another Polo shirt. We laughed about how much she enjoyed spiffing him up. When going places got too difficult, we spent our days watching Netflix.
Her husband, her four kids, their significant others, her step kids, her grandkids, her siblings, her nieces and nephews, her friends and many others rallied around her. She knew she was loved. She slipped away on September 21, 2015, six weeks before her son, Carson’s wedding.
The wedding was November 7th. Carson honored his “extra Mom’s” by dancing with his three Aunts, me, Aunt Cindy and Aunt Natalie for the Mother Son dance.
From the time this started, 18 months ago, our family’s reality has been realigned. Losing one of the six of us was not supposed to happen. But it did and here we are. We’ll do what we do – grow closer, stick together, and be there for each other. There are no other options for us.
When I started this blog, my goal was to share our “adventure” with those who cared. In my mind, adventure meant fun and exciting experiences – not sadness and grief. But life plays out. Thank you for caring.
Other Half, Rigby and I are back on the Open Road.