And so it frequently goes, life is balanced with equal parts sadness and joy. Mysteriously, I seldom notice the balance, and tend to struggle beneath the weight of powerlessness. I suspect we tend to be mentally programmed strongly towards either happiness or sadness, not in terms of optimism or pessimism but regard to memory and the vividness with which recall the passing of our lives.I don’t view myself as an optimist or a pessimist, but a pragmatist, and perhaps an observer.
Today I received two shocking, unrelated pieces of news.
My sister’s husband, will undergo quadruple bypass surgery Thursday. He’s not even fifty. He has been under a great deal of stress the past three years. He has a potentially explosive temper (though I feel compelled to mention he is NOT a violent man). He has high blood pressure. And though I love her, he IS married to my sister (She is lovable, and exceedingly adept at button pushing. We shared a bathroom for eleven years, I know her. I am not judging her.)
The other shocking news; my husbands youngest brother taught my niece to ride a bicycle. It sounds tame, but this is big. My niece is twenty, and there were a few months of non-communication last year. No judgement on my part. It’s hard to be in between adulthood, and it has never been easy to be a parent. Period. So she wanted to learn to ride now because of a boy. No surprise. It isn’t pretty, but she can stay upright.
Tonight. I can appreciate the sadness and the joy for what they are, not some happenstance passive aggressive wormhole karmic fuck job. Clarity maybe? No that’s too much credit.
I’ve been hashing over the information about my Sister and her family and trying to guess who they need me to be and where I need to be for their benefit. I hate the hospital clusterfuck, but my decision will not be based on personal phobias. I know bypass surgery isn’t the same beast it was when my father endured it, but I also know its scary when your partner is lying in a surgical bed with bland sheets.
I won’t know who I need to be, until I talk to her tomorrow. Here’s hoping I read her correctly…. I’m also hoping my husband’s brother will read the bicycle lesson correctly as well, or at least recognize it as an opportunity to re-enter his daughter’s life.
She might need you to be at the hospital with her during the surgery. She might need you to deal with her kids while she’s dealing with her husband.
She might need you to provide gallows humor.
I guess you’ll have to ask her.
holy crap, that’s a lot to take in. How are you dealing?
I am sending good vibes to your BIL’s surgeons. His recovery will be long, so your role may change throughout the process. I’m sorry that this is coming up right on the heels of the other.
That is exciting news about the niece learning to ride a bike – from her father no less. Sweet.
We just made a 4 day trip to KC (1800 miles round-trip) so that Laura could be there for her brother, who had been sent to the ER and subsequently put in the hospital. She and her sisters jumped through all kinds of hoops, went to all kinds of trouble to make arrangements for him that his live-in girlfriend said she would do, but then didn’t. When he got out of the hospital his dad made the comment to him that he owed a lot to his sisters. He replied “Why, girlfriend did all the work.”
I hope that your support of your sister gets recognized for what it is – an expression of your love for her.
I strongly suspect that you will rise to the occasion…and allow yourself to morph into whoever you sister needs you to be. The trick will be remaining fluid in your morphing as your sister’s needs change from one moment to the next. Fortunately, you are very good at ‘reading’ people. I’ll send good thoughts to you and your family.
meno, beings sisters eliminates the need to ask, a single conversation told me all I needed to know. Being there was the right thing.
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flutter, I’m dealing fine, aside from being concerned for the others. In moments like this I’m more concerned about meeting their needs.
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De, the surgeons received the good vibes, thank you. Strangely the recovery only takes about 4 weeks. It seems short compared to the eight weeks it used to require. I was tickled about the bike too. It’s nice when it isn’t too late to go back.
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Bob, I’m sorry Laura and her sisters, were subjected to the live-ins poor form, that’s just wrong. I hope your BIL has a speedy recovery.
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Lynn, thanks. Things are going well. Considering the stress level, my sister handled things very well.