P. Marie

Happy Birthday to my baby sister, Marie.  I hope you have an easy day and your teams - both at work and at home - wait on you and spoil you.

As the youngest of seven children, you have had a lot of "parents" watching over you.  I remember as a ten being charged with the duty to take you to the park (Webster?) and you didn't seem very interested in what I had to say as I tried to boss you around.  You were already leading yourself, charting your course, finding your way.  I've tried, mostly unsuccessfully, to emulate your no-nonsense approach, that quiet way you allow others the floor and then chime in with just the right perspective and chart our course, without turning your head and looking behind.  Whether it's deciding on a group gift or where to celebrate Christmas, you, the youngest, lead us - and we willingly follow.

You have much to brag on, and yet you don't:  your talented children, lovely modern home, involved spouse, and huge responsibilities at work.   (I remember my surprise when visiting you at work several years ago and seeing your spacious corner office with large windows overlooking downtown Minneapolis, and not a hint of arrogance in your demeanor.  I had no idea you were a big deal at work.  It made such an impression on me, as if to teach me:  my worth isn't tied to an office, a title, an accomplishment.)

Here's to another year!  Happy birthday Marie - and thanks for all the gifts.

My baby sister, Pauline Marie

Saturday Shower

It may be a shower, but these are tears of joy.  My thoughtful and loyal daughter, hosting a bridal shower for my kind and generous DIL2B, attended by my wonderful sisters and mother and nieces.  Not to gush, but it's just hard facts that I scored in the lucky department.

Sure hope there's dessert!

Lessons from Laurie

I didn't know Sharon very well, but I came to know my sister a whole lot better through Sharon's death six years ago today.

For sixteen months, my sister Laurie was Sharon's caregiver as together they traversed the journey of cancer patient and, finally, Hospice client.  I'm sure I won't can't get all the details correct, but they both taught me - about death, and about caring for the dying.

Laurie is a crier, just like me, which is one of our common bonds.  But she was a rock when it mattered, and it mattered a whole lot during those sixteen emotional months.

To say it was a difficult time doesn't paint the picture.  Laurie became a medical expert and a patient advocate for Sharon.  Laurie learned blood counts, oncology options, CT scan results and consulted on all of it.  There were a whole lot of sacrifices, compromises, inconveniences, and late nights online remotely so the wheels didn't come off her work commitments.  She did all of that (and I know I don't know the half of it) and she would've done it another sixteen months, or years.

What I saw in those difficult days was a woman who was so committed to the integrity of another human being that you couldn't help but sit up straighter, to try harder, to be better.

At Sharon's funeral service, Laurie delivered the eulogy.  I was nervous for her.  She's a crier - how is she going to do this?  I saw my sister's strength like never before.  She gave a final gift to Sharon, and to all of us who were listening.  Her eulogy was a toast to her best friend, her sister-by-heart, and she was amazingly strong.  Her composure, her resolve, her grace - these things were modeled for me by Laurie that day.

What I've seen since Sharon's death is a loved one so full of grief that in the early difficult days her words slurred, her hand seemed unsteady, her eyes were so sad.  What I've seen in the last few years is a woman who fully understands the gift she was given and treasures it and can talk about...and, having witnessed death so intimately, really values all that comes with purposeful living.

Thank you, big sister, for the life lessons.  I hope I get a ride in your new Mustang soon.

Three Little Girls

I had a chance to see two of my three Minneapolis sisters this weekend (sure did miss you, Laurie!).   So I started calling it the "Three Little Girls Reunion Party" and boy...did we! 

There's something really cool about being in this particular club.  While my parents always speak affectionately when referring to the three little girls, the four older sibs haven't always had warmth rolling off their tongues with this label (more like rolling of the eyes).  I know we injected new energy and enthusiasm into the special bond we have when we met on Saturday night, as we discussed religion, children, food, family, politics, clothing, coupons...and other life choices.

We might be sisters, but it's really the sisterhood.  Those of you who don't have blood sisters, or have lost them, often find this in other women.  The bond:  a mirror, a window, a witness, the truth.  There's just no getting away from yourself when you have allies in your life.  Cheers to Liz and Marie!

Lake Calhoun - a 3.4 mile walk on a 65 degree day in November.

It doesn't get much better than this!

Treats!



And of course, wine!