Today is my sister's birthday. It may well be her last birthday. We should be throwing her a blow-out party...But we're not. We are unable to. She has cancer, multiple myeloma to be precise. And after three years of fighting, coping with chemo and radiation, embracing baldness, and keeping a positive attitude, she appears to be losing the war.
Multiple myeloma is a tough row to hoe; it leaches calcium from the bones, weakening them. We found out about the cancer following a sudden and catastrophic spinal fracture out of the blue. One minute she's bundling groceries into our mother's house...CRACK...groceries drop to the porch. Fast forward to today, she sits in a room at the University of Washington Medical Center, recovering from water in the lungs, discovered during the administration of a new drug.
She's been given 3 to 6 months to live. There it is. It's been declared.
My baby sister, Renee' was wanted. My mother and stepfather wanted another baby to add to our blended family. Hell, I wanted a baby girl added to our family. Our family babysat a neighbor's child and lavished attention on her every chance we got. Her name was Renee. A few months past my tenth birthdate, we got our very own Renee'; we couldn't have been happier. A bald, bubbly, happy baby born at the very same hospital I was. She was our living baby doll and she quickly grew into a golden-haired cherub.
There would be trouble in paradise; babies grow into toddlers who need constant supervision. I was taught to change diapers and feed my baby sister. Learning was fun but punishment weighed heavy. After I was made to soak my own underpants and wear them for an hour (my punishment for not noticing my sister needed changing). Corporal punishment and humiliation soured me on the novelty. From that point forward until I left home, she was alternately, a joy and a burden. It would take adulthood to realize that my sister wasn't the problem. Pity.
At eighteen and living on Queen Anne Hill, using string and a tiny crochet hook, I created a delicate wedding dress for her Barbie. In home economic's sewing class, I made her a darling dress. I can say that I resented her but, truth is, I loved her much more. She was my first baby girl, after all.
Through the years, we saw one another infrequently, living miles apart. When she finally moved home, we got to find commonality. Going to the Washington State Fair in Puyallup together, eating scrumptious fair food, riding the ferris wheel, posing with storm troopers, we had a great time!She learned how to knit and joined a Knitting Group with our mother and I. We went on two LYS tours (Local Yarn Store) together, taking in the countryside, discovering new shops, fibers, and projects. I knit for her and she knit for me.
We took a trip to the tulip fields and walked Roozengard, Renee', our sister Dawn, and I. Thank God for our time together. There was a force out there that drew us together. An intelligence that knew we needed to come together and spend some time with each other. I got to get to know my baby sister as an adult. I got to travel with her to Hawaii. I got to trade books with her and make fun of her poor housekeeping and hoarding tendencies. I got to worry about her health. I got to see her fall in love. I got to eat her barbecue chicken, blue cheese dressing, fondue, and vodka spaghetti sauce.
Although she, herself, was ill, she came to see me and painted my nails. She is a very special baby sister. I love her very much and always will.
Multiple myeloma is a tough row to hoe; it leaches calcium from the bones, weakening them. We found out about the cancer following a sudden and catastrophic spinal fracture out of the blue. One minute she's bundling groceries into our mother's house...CRACK...groceries drop to the porch. Fast forward to today, she sits in a room at the University of Washington Medical Center, recovering from water in the lungs, discovered during the administration of a new drug.
She's been given 3 to 6 months to live. There it is. It's been declared.
My baby sister, Renee' was wanted. My mother and stepfather wanted another baby to add to our blended family. Hell, I wanted a baby girl added to our family. Our family babysat a neighbor's child and lavished attention on her every chance we got. Her name was Renee. A few months past my tenth birthdate, we got our very own Renee'; we couldn't have been happier. A bald, bubbly, happy baby born at the very same hospital I was. She was our living baby doll and she quickly grew into a golden-haired cherub.
There would be trouble in paradise; babies grow into toddlers who need constant supervision. I was taught to change diapers and feed my baby sister. Learning was fun but punishment weighed heavy. After I was made to soak my own underpants and wear them for an hour (my punishment for not noticing my sister needed changing). Corporal punishment and humiliation soured me on the novelty. From that point forward until I left home, she was alternately, a joy and a burden. It would take adulthood to realize that my sister wasn't the problem. Pity.
At eighteen and living on Queen Anne Hill, using string and a tiny crochet hook, I created a delicate wedding dress for her Barbie. In home economic's sewing class, I made her a darling dress. I can say that I resented her but, truth is, I loved her much more. She was my first baby girl, after all.
Through the years, we saw one another infrequently, living miles apart. When she finally moved home, we got to find commonality. Going to the Washington State Fair in Puyallup together, eating scrumptious fair food, riding the ferris wheel, posing with storm troopers, we had a great time!She learned how to knit and joined a Knitting Group with our mother and I. We went on two LYS tours (Local Yarn Store) together, taking in the countryside, discovering new shops, fibers, and projects. I knit for her and she knit for me.
We took a trip to the tulip fields and walked Roozengard, Renee', our sister Dawn, and I. Thank God for our time together. There was a force out there that drew us together. An intelligence that knew we needed to come together and spend some time with each other. I got to get to know my baby sister as an adult. I got to travel with her to Hawaii. I got to trade books with her and make fun of her poor housekeeping and hoarding tendencies. I got to worry about her health. I got to see her fall in love. I got to eat her barbecue chicken, blue cheese dressing, fondue, and vodka spaghetti sauce.
Although she, herself, was ill, she came to see me and painted my nails. She is a very special baby sister. I love her very much and always will.
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