Life Is Right Now

I’ve got this plaque hanging up in my bedroom. It’s just one of those cheap, wooden ones with a saying, like you can find in pretty much any novelty store. I bought it because, to me, it’s one of those reminders that we need to look at every once in awhile so we don’t forget. Life is right now. Not yesterday, not last week, or last year, or tomorrow even. It’s right now. And right now, just a day after saying goodbye to my sister Christine, I and the rest of my family, can finally begin what I’m sure will be the very long process of healing.

I can’t speak for my mom or my siblings, nor the dozens of people who knew my sister and will have their own bit of healing to do. I can only speak for myself and my right now. Of course, for me the sadness is raw. I haven’t said this publicly until this moment, but I was the person who found my sister after she’d gone missing for a day. I’ve been reliving those moments in my head almost all day, everyday, since Monday night. I already realize that I’ll never be able to wash away the memories of the week, but I recognize that I’m probably going to need to seek some professional assistance to work through it, something I never thought I would have to do.

Of all the things that made me cry this week, it was the countless personal messages I’ve been receiving from friends and family, and even strangers who my sister touched in some way. Crying is therapeutic, and no matter how a person may feel about offering such words of condolence, I think it’s important to know that it doesn’t matter what was said or how it was said. Just the fact that someone found the strength to reach out means the world to the person who is grieving. To that, I offer my sincerest appreciation to everyone who reached out to us. Please know that however small you might think your gesture was, it meant the world to us.

Chrissy’s wake was surreal, as you can imagine. Being a part of her immediate family, I felt like a ping pong ball all day, with people waiting sometimes five deep, to offer their condolences.To all of you who came, especially on my behalf, and with whom I could only spare just a moment or two, I want you to know that through all the blur of yesterday, I remember that you came, and that you came not only out of respect for my sister, but out of love for me. My love for each and every one of you is returned tenfold.

I wish I could bottle up all if the humanity we experienced this week and keep it for all time. As happens, though, I know that life will continue and in some way that humanity will dissipate, sadly. We’ll maintain our political opinions and our personal issues with those in our lives, and that’s too bad. That’s really the tragedy of life. Well, not for me anymore. I know that life is too precious, too short, to be angry or to hold grudges. Right now, I have nothing but love for my family, for my friends, and for the compassionate side of my fellow human beings.

They say it often brings tragedy to bring people together, and I experienced that first-hand this week. In the days and weeks to come, I’m going to build on this, hold onto all that love, and carry it with me wherever I go. It is my hope that some who read my words will take them and run with them too. Reach out to those with whom you may be estranged and truly miss deep inside, give someone a hug, treat people with kindness. My heart is full right now, not only with sadness, but with love for you all. From the bottom of my heart, thank you!

Baby Sister

If you looked at my sister's Facebook page, it would be easy to see the type of person she was, the things that were near and dear to her heart, her humor, her sentimental spirit, and most of all, her ever-present glimmer of hope.  I've been perusing her Facebook page on and off ever since she passed on Monday night and I can't help but feel that I wished I'd looked at it more before then.  Though I felt like I already knew her before, and I did, the things she posted there, oftentimes simple little memes or GIF's about animals, the good old days, family, and lots more completed the three-dimensional image that was her essence.

I don't know if anyone can prepare themselves for the loss of a child, or in my particular case, a sibling  No matter how often or how little you interact with one another, there is a bond that exists with an immediate family member because you've been a constant in one another's lives since the beginning.  I am the eldest of six siblings, and Chrissy was the baby.  I remember the night she was born, mom and dad off in the hospital and the rest of us sleepless at home with nana and grandpa babysitting, waiting for the news of whether the new baby would be a boy or a girl. Having only one brother and three sisters, I was praying for the former.  Nonetheless, when nana woke us up in the morning to tell us we had a new sister, how could any of us not still be excited?

Chrissy's first day of school

Back in those days, my family struggled financially, and not long after Christine was born, mom had to go back to work at McCrory's in the mall a few nights a week.  I, as the oldest at 13, was relegated to chief babysitter.  I changed Chrissy's diapers, prepared her bottles and fed her, and I played with her, put her to sleep, and kept her occupied all the while keeping the other foot soldiers in line until daddy came home.  This lasted a couple of years until dear Aunt Vi came to mine, and Chrissy's rescue.

Though Aunt Vi loved us all, everyone always knew that Chrissy was the apple of her eye.  Whereas Aunt Vi saved me from my job as chief, cook, and bottle washer, Chrissy saved her from the despair of being newly widowed.  My sister gave her purpose, and a companion, and the two of them spent the next few years doing homework together, playing cards, and Aunt Vi spending all of her money buying Mister Softee for all of her friends on hot summer nights.  It was one of the happiest times in my aunt's life.  The two of them were the infamous frick and frack for those formative years of my sister's life, and her passing a little over ten years ago left a hole in Chrissy's heart for the rest of her days.  One of the only comforts of this week for us is knowing that the two of them are probably playing gin rummy once again.

Dave, Chrissy and I

Sadly in the years since Christine was little she and I were never really too close again, as I went off into my adulthood and she remained a still home-bound youngster now becoming one of 'the girls.'  Though my sisters were never always bosom buddies, they did share a bond that remained throughout the years, and Chrissy, the baby, was always an integral character in that mix. 

Snapchat silliness with Gina

Throughout her adult life, my sister Christine would become a beautiful young woman, with a smile that could light up a room and small circle of really good friends who to this day would have done anything for her.  Unfortunately, not all of her friends were a positive influence.  My sister was also a very trusting person, and despite all of her attributes, she had a low self-image and a trusting nature that gave in to most anyone who paid her any attention.

For the past twenty-plus years, Chrissy's life somewhat resembled that of a pinball machine.  She moved around from place to place, spending time in both Kentucky and Florida, dodging her troubles whenever she could.  We all had our own periods of frustration with her and would sometimes lose contact, but her devotion to her family would never let that last too long.  Despite all of her troubles, we all still loved her.  Every last one of us!

Whenever Christine would be away, she always harbored a longing to return to New York, her home, and her family.  I remember most recently, when she was in Florida, that she spoke of returning for months before she actually did, and once she came back, my mom had no choice but to give her some tough love, having her try and make it on her own and alleviate her problems once and for all before she could come back into the house.  I think that we would all agree that in the last few months, she did her best.

Despite all of her own misgivings about herself, Christine was always an optimist, as anyone could plainly see from her Facebook postings.  This past holiday season was especially hopeful, as she worked hard at mending both herself and her relationships with others.  She and I had been communicating often lately, and had been making plans to do things together.  The day after Christmas, she sent me these texts:

I had a great time at your house. Thank you for being so welcoming.  I'm trying to be a better person and I appreciate my family's effort.  I feel truly blessed this holiday season.  

I told her to keep doing what she was doing and sent her a virtual hug.

Thanks John.  You always make me feel hopeful.  I love being around you.  I want to make myself proud and secondly my family.  That's why I'm doing therapy.  I'm done doing negative and I want to be surrounded with positive people.  I love you and I'm sorry I neglected you and the rest of the family.  I'm trying to make it up to everyone.  

We had a couple of more conversations like that in the days after, and during the last one we had, a week ago today, we made plans to go to breakfast on Saturday so she could meet Vinny.  She said she was looking forward to that.  So was I.  Four days later, she was gone.

I can't tell you how much it hurt to have lost her.  I don't think that in my 55 years of life on this Earth that I've ever felt this sad.  I am proud of my sister for being the person she was, for her optimism, for her humor, for her loving spirit.  I'm not going to say goodbye to her because she will live on in my heart for the rest of my days.  I will always remember her smile, her voice, and most of all her unconditional love for me and mom, David, Linda, Ann Marie, Rhiana, and Gina.  And who knows, maybe she'll use her newfound powers to help the Yankees win the World Series this year!  Rest in peace baby sister!