A Work in Progress

I've been absent from my blog, with the exception of photos for some time now.
It isn't that I haven't wanted to write, in fact, I desperately needed to put thoughts on a page, but I just couldn't. I'd sit down at the keyboard and I'd just choke. So I would write lists. Things I needed to do that I could check off on any given day as proof that I had, in fact, accomplished something. Dishes, laundry, homeschool stuff, errands, minutia. It wasn't much but it was something.

I am not a big thinker and I'm not a great writer but I do feel things, deeply. And the things I was feeling were just too big to narrow down to a single focus, a coherent narrative, because it was chaos in my head and tumult in my heart. Even now I hesitate to write and I've edited this for hours, not wanting to cause grief to the family I know will be reading this. But in the end, the grief will be there and I believe that memories help, because we were and remain in it together. I love you all so very, very much.

In September, we lost my beloved sister-in-law to cancer. It was a long, grueling, ugly battle but she was and remained one of the most beautiful women I've ever known. Jenna's 12th birthday passed in the midst of her final days.
I made a video of her with her birthday doughnut and Rowan and I singing "Happy Birthday" and we sent it up via YouTube to include our family in as best we were able. They called on speaker phone and Becky's voice could be heard, "Happy Birthday Jenna, I love you". Those were the last words the girls and I were to hear her speak.

In the following days, she went home both literally and figuratively and we were left to deal without her and do all the things that must be done. We were together and people were amazing but the pain in our hearts was immense, overwhelming at times and utterly earth shattering at others. And then we came home and life went on and we slowly passed many of the "firsts" one marks when someone you love is gone. Thanksgiving, Christmas, birthdays and now it's Spring, her favorite time of the year. The time when she would have been at her job at Old Sturbridge Village working on the gardens she loved so much. And I miss her.

On February 24th, I got one of those texts that you never forget. "Mom is on the way to the ER with chest pain." We were at our usual "Sundate" at my best friend's house and she drove me, on a gorgeous evening, light snow falling, peaceful and serene to Cape Cod Hospital so Mike could take the girls home in our car. Over the ensuing days my sisters and I pretty much lived at the CVICU. Mom had had a massive heart attack. No family history, no dietary or lifestyle issues, no nothing, yet here she was with a 100% blockage by the time she got there. Things went neither smoothly nor well and it was more than a little terrifying. My poor Dad was reeling but never showing it. Saving graces were abundant though, through it all. My niece and nephew took turns at night, after we'd left. Our younger sister was a huge blessing. We treasured our mornings with Mom, all of us having that early time together for the first time since we were kids around the breakfast table.
Our men and the kids held down the home front for each of us. I've really no words at all for how much I love my family and how proud I am to be part of it.
As of now, she still has pleurisy and is weaker than a kitten, but as far as anyone can tell, she is out of danger. Thank God. And she has been out, a little bit here and there, working in her beloved gardens again.

Life, altered, goes on, and I am grateful for so very many things. Yesterday I got to hold a friend's baby in my arms within minutes of hugging her mother in law who has been undergoing chemotherapy. Precious moments both. My niece moved to LA and is sharing her life with the rich and famous via Instagram. My nephew's business is going well by all accounts. The girls often wear the t shirts he gave them proudly. I'm holding out for a hoodie. Jenna just earned a silver medal from her National Mythology Exam's. Of course, being Jenna, she was mad at herself for not getting a gold this time. I wish she were not so hard on herself but I guess it isn't easy being almost 13. It's crazy time for Mike's work. Spring always is. Rowan is working at her first job these days. taking after both her Nana and her Matante, she is a gardener and is working at the local garden store.

I am carrying on. Maybe now, with the big things out, I can write about the little things again. There are upcoming birthdays and family gatherings, big events and small ones we are looking forward to in the coming months. Perhaps I can write again, sharing those small moments that together make up my life and make it blessed beyond reason.

“A bolt of warmth, fierce with joy and pride and gratitude, flashed through me like sudden lightning. I don’t care about whose DNA has recombined with whose. When everything goes to hell, the people who stand by you without flinching—they are your family. And they were my heroes.” ― Jim Butcher

Here's to us Sissy!

My sister and I, you will recollect, were twins, and you know how subtle are the links which bind two souls which are so closely allied.
~Arthur Conan Doyle, The Adventure of the Speckled Band

April 1965, presumably when we were both finally home from the hospital.

All who would win joy, must share it; happiness was born a twin.

~Lord Byron

Sandy Neck Beach, almost certainly with our grandparents.

“…we're twins, and so we love each other more than other people…”
― Louisa May Alcott, Little Men

Sandy Neck, years later, circa 1988

“We were born in the '70s, back when twins were rare, a bit magical: cousins of the unicorn, siblings of the elves. We even have a dash of twin telepathy. Go is truly the one person in the entire world I am totally myself with. I don't feel the need to explain my actions to her. I don't clarify, I don't doubt, I don't worry. I don't tell her everything, not anymore, but I tell her more than anyone else, by far. I tell her as much as I can. We spent nine months back to back, covering each other. It became a lifelong habit. ”
― Gillian Flynn, Gone Girl