We're coming up on a year since Mim passed - went into the hospital on June 27, slipped from us on July 3. As Peter said the other day, "It doesn't seem possible."
Last year, I used many weeks to post memories of my sister, recollections of her impact on me, on others. For the next week or so, perhaps longer, I will be sharing some of the surprising insights I've had over the past year about my sister, especially the struggles she faced, struggles that so often seemed to overwhelm her.
It is almost freaky to be taking a workshop this coming weekend based on Brene Brown's Daring Greatly, a book about vulnerability & transformation. The fact that it happens to be offered at this time, will be held two days before Mim was admitted into her last hospital for her last stay, is so in line with what's happened over so much of my life - the just-right thing showing up, apparently unbidden, at the just-right moment in the just-right way. It feels like that seriously amped up over the past year.
I still remember hearing Princess Diana expressing one of her deepest regrets over the failure of her marriage - that they could have been such great partners. Except she was married to someone who wasn't able to understand what she meant by that term, certainly wasn't able to do it. It wasn't a failure on his part; it was a non-starter because it simply wasn't in him. There is no slamming a person for not doing something that they cannot, if they tried & tried & tried, see. Charles & Diana showed the world what happens when two people attempt relationship with the assumption that the other understands what they seek in that connection yet where neither has the slightest clue about what makes the other tick, that the core assumptions each apparently holds is diametrically opposite from the other.
What a blessing that I'd come to that understanding, made peace with it, long before Mim was admitted into the Toms River Medical Center. We could have been such great partners, except we never could have. What my sister expected from life & what I do were opposed in ways I'll never fathom.
Before I start writing about sensitive subjects, am taking this opportunity to offer up thanks for the reality that from the time I was ten or eleven, Mim left no doubt in my mind that she didn't like me, didn't like me on the most profound level. I believed her. That was liberating. I didn't think, as so many people have said to me over the years, "Oh, she really did love you." No, she really didn't. I really scared the shit out of her. You cannot love what scares you.
Luckily for me, I loved Mim. Loved her on the most profound level. For years & years & years, that precluded loving myself (several postings in that!). But even when I didn't love myself, deep down there was a sense of worthiness, aging like some awesome wine waiting to be uncorked.
We could have been such great partners - except we never could be.
Realizing that could have left me in an endless loop of regret, frustration & unacknowledged anger. Weird, that for the brief time I experienced it, that loop felt comforting, like I was DOING something, the energies were so present, so palpable. Praise be for realizing they go nowhere, do nothing except feed a bottomless sense of grief for what might have been. Luckily for me, the energies were so clear, so negative, it was obvious the best step to take was away from them. To NOT repeat Mim's mistakes.
Brene says the two things we need to live a wholehearted life is to engage with the world & feel a sense of worthiness.
Here's why I think this past year has been even more awesome than the jaw-dropping wonderful ones that came before - - I get to do that, engage with the world from a place of worthiness, from myself & also for my sister. It was heartbreaking that Mim clearly couldn't, for reasons I cannot fathom, do that basic thing from that basic place. It would be a tragic farce if I didn't, since I can.
The other day, perhaps the most amazing thing of this amazing year happened. John & I were out walking the Pennypack Trail, where we're headed in about an hour. John walks with me for a short time, then I tell him, "Fly, Budgie," and off he goes, to walk at his own brisk clip. For most of the walk, I am solo. Last week, on the second half, heading through the cool woods back to the car, was sweetly startled to have the sensation of Mim walking next to me. Not talking to me, not looking at me, not even feeling differently about me - just walking at the same steady pace.
It's been an amazing year, crammed with reading, getting new perspectives & fresh insights. It's seen builds on things started in recent years, new challenges embraced, core goals reached. It's been filled with wonders & excitement & great promise. But the most amazing thing of all, the thing that will stay with me through all that rolls out before me, is knowing that my sister is always at my side - not talking, not looking at me, not partnering, just there.
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