Guest blogger: my sister

Coo. That’s what I call my dear sister, “BG”.  We don’t have much in common.  I had one wisdom tooth; she had four.  In high school, my second home was the ballet studio; hers was the rugby field or the volleyball court (depending on the season).  In university she studied Psych; I studied Econ.  She’s also quite the extrovert; I’m more of an introvert. So sometimes we butt heads – once she even stuck her finger up my nose, but I love her all the same – and not just because she’s my seeeester.

        I think by now everyone’s more or less tired of hearing about the c-word (I know I am), so I’m not going to go on too much about that but I do want to share my side of the story on a couple of notes.  First of all, yes – it’s true, I don’t do well with needles or blood, but I did get pretty good at those subcutaneous injections for Coo when she couldn’t do them for herself!  Yes, I felt wheezy when I’d go into those blood test rooms with her – filled with tubes and needles, and I’d feel my pulse quickening – and not in a good way!  And the worst of it was when I went to that one chemotherapy session and didn’t last there 10 minutes before I fell nauseous and was laid down by the nurses with a wet towel on my forehead.  BUT hear me out.  The truth is, I wanted to be the big, strong, older sister.  Of course I wanted to protect her from the pain and the scariness.  I had held it together for weeks – doing my best to hide from her my fears and my weaknesses.  And it got really hard to be strong and brave around those blood-sucking needles.  So I took my next best option… which was play up the weaknesses so that she could feel strong relative to me.  It also worked in that it made her laugh when she’d previously been teary-eyed, but (according to her) she also got anxious about me and kicked me out of her chemo session telling me to never come back.  That hurt. I mean, give this sista some credit!

I know my Momma did some of this last week, but I also want to give a sincere thanks to all the wonderful, beautiful, warm people who have blessed our home and our lives with their presence over the past six months – BG’s friends and my own, friends of friends, and friends of friends of friends, and… well, you get the idea…  I am truly humbled by how many absolutely outstanding friends my sister has in her life – and I’m grateful too because now they’re in my life too  (in Economics, this effortless attainment of friends via another party is called freeloading). I also want to take a moment to specifically mention my family, whom I feel is underappreciated in this blog.

•        Our Momma is amazing, and were it not for her persistence (which Coo and I used to refer to as paranoia – I guess we can’t get away with that anymore) with the doctors, who knows how much later it may have been before Coo were diagnosed and treated.  Momma has always put our needs above hers, but particularly throughout this journey, she has been the wind, the sail, and the mast.

•        Our Daddy took his work break early and flared in from across the world (literally, Africa) to be here with us for the biopsy results.  I don’t think James Bond himself could’ve made swifter time.  He’s also shaved his head – twice! –  and even encouraged all his coworkers in Africa to shave their heads in support of Coo! What a guy! 

•        And here I had started going into more extended family and all the details about how appreciative I am towards them, but I could be here all night (we have quite a big family), so I’ll just leave it as this:  We have family who have been praying, sending us care packages, checking in, reminding us we’re in their thoughts, making us food, visiting, ensuring Coo has top of the line immunity supplements – and these are family from within the city, across the country, and across the world.

And now about the Coo I love…

When we’re walking or shopping together I like to loop my arm in hers, but it’s usually returned by an “I’m not clingy!” and an unhooking of her arm from mine.  Sometimes I’ll agree to pick her up from church (moving my schedule around to make it work), and when I get there she just says, “I’m getting a ride with <insert one of several girlfriends’ names here>.” Other times I’ll receive derogatory – and uncalled for – pieces of advice from her: “No one wants to buy the cow if you’re giving the milk away for free.” But Coo is an intelligent and wise luminosity.  Her blog writings are

continuous proof of that.  Her passions and interpretations are deep and vivacious, and her advice – the honest type, not the teasing type – is considerate, compassionate, and genuine.

My sister is the type of person who – without thinking twice – will pull over and use the sweater-she’d-just-a-second-ago-been-wearing to pick up a hawk that had just been hit by a car (she then took it to Wild Arc and saved its life).

My sister is the type of person who will make me a mixed CD of uplifting songs and write a heartfelt, encouraging letter, and then send them to me in the mail while I was at a summer dance program in Banff – just because she’d heard I’d had a bad day.

My sister is the type of person who will console me when I’ve made a mistake that’s led to pain, and she won’t judge or condemn me the second (or third) time she’s consoling me for pain that’s the result of the same mistake being repeated.

My sister is the one who can make a single word so funny (“Snuffles?”) that even when we’re fighting it can dissolve the arguments.

My sister is so strong that even through her hardships, she was able to not only support herself, but also be strong for and comfort all those worried hearts around her.

My sister is the one who can laugh in the face of darkness because she knows it has no grasp on her – come to think of it, she’d probably make darkness laugh with her.

My sister is spectacular, and I’m so proud she’s my sister.

Bless you, my darling, and remember you are always in the heart – oh tucked so close there is no chance of escape - of your sister. 

~Katherine Mansfield