I Love Her Better…Now That She’s Gone

I am my sister’s keeper.  Her guardian, her advocate, her ally and proudly, I am her best friend.  Given her many disabilities I learned as a child that despite Lisa’s status as my older sister, she needed me to rise to be her protector.  Our relationship has changed as we’ve watched life unfold but the role of Lisa’s sister is one that I cherish deeply, with gratitude abundant.  For as much as I’ve been her rock and stabilizing force for years, the gifts that Lisa bestows upon me are an ever-present reminder of the sanctity of life, the blessings in messy wrappers.  Lisa is a little miracle.  She cheered me on as I earned degrees, married Paul, welcomed Delaney.  She comforted me when the disappointments came – losing our parents, our beloved dog, Sadie.  Lisa is 99.9% heart.

With a knack for seeing goodness, Lisa has a natural inclination toward laughter and sunshine.  She’s also quite savvy and intuitive and her one liners delight me.  Bold.  Direct. No artifice with an uncanny knack for highlighting hidden truths.

Case in point?  After recalling a stressful holiday episode with our mom, Sue, rather than becoming swept up in the pain, Lisa remarked: 

“Mom was sick then but she didn’t know it yet.  But I did”

A spot-on summary in the form of a flashback memory, but now Lisa can put context around the incident to see it without entirely reliving it. I affirmed Lisa’s observation and told her she was right.  Mom was sick for a long time. And then Lisa leveled me with this gem:

“Know what else?  I always loved mom but I love her better now that she’s gone.”

This was one of Lisa’s nightly phone calls (usually at 6pm, on the dot!).  Sometimes I get a rewind of her day and what she ate, who she saw, but that night?  Lisa encapsulated and summarized life with Sue as better in her memories – where she can shuffle past the paint points to focus on the lighter moments.  A growth statement, to be sure. 

After I collected myself and tried to silence the catch in my throat, I replied:

“I’m so proud of you.  Yes! Love the good parts.  Remember those.”  

I’ve learned that I need to cloak my own response – even a joyous one that might trigger tears.  Lisa hears every nuance in my voice and if she senses she’s prompted bittersweet emotion, she falls into the practiced pattern entrenched with Sue; incessant apologizing to preserve the peace and avoid conflict at all costs.

I love Lisa.  She reminds me that I, too, can edit out the rough patches related to Sue, now that I’ve put them in their place.  They don’t haunt me – or Lisa – as much as they once did.

I’m grateful beyond all measure for the team at Lisa’s workshop for disabled adults.  We share many of the same skills and credentials as members of the “helping professions” – regardless of whether we’re counselors, therapists, psychiatrists, social workers or psychologists. They are mental health providers extraordinaire as they continue to be a source of tremendous support for Lisa.

When I’ve advocated for additional services for Lisa, tweaking her care over time as she’s recovered from her complicated life with Sue, I’ve found caring souls ready to receive and love her.  Her team understands I’m doing my best and to a person, they are extensions of our family.  Our chosen family.

I hold Lisa’s team in high regard because they tackle challenges with kindness and patience as Lisa builds confidence and becomes more assertive. I’ve done my own repair work in the aftermath of living with Sue and even though the road’s been bumpy at times, I knew I had most of the resources I needed to persevere.  Capability within that Lisa cannot claim and for that, I am eternally grateful.

Given Lisa’s low IQ, emotional and physical disabilities, the wellness and recovery road for her requires focused and well-organized care.  Continuous care because she can time-travel and slide into painful episodes…down those slippery hills…with very little provocation.  Memories are messy for Lisa and when glimpses of the past flow into present day – perhaps sparked by a TV program or an upcoming holiday, such as Thanksgiving – we, the people who love Lisa, are ready to help her reset.  And time IS of the essence to redirect and usher Lisa to higher ground.  Guidance from those who love and understand her is essential to avoid pitfalls.

Even when I’m beleaguered and ache from retreading the tumultuous terrain that was “life with Sue” I remind myself that loving Lisa is the gift of a lifetime and a privilege. Being her sister continues to fill me with joy and purpose.

A little more?  Take a peek at Victoria Ponders for an empowerment story about Lisa finding her voice and a little backbone on an Easter Sunday. I promise you’ll smile.

Vicki ❤


34 thoughts on “I Love Her Better…Now That She’s Gone

  1. When one is without a sense, be it sight or mobility or any part of our body or mind, something else within us becomes more powerful. A blind person has a keen sense of feel. Your sister has been gifted, too.

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    1. I love that, Jennie. Thank you so much for sharing. I think you’re right. Lisa’s been enriched with gifts despite her limitations. It’s all in how we look at things. Happy Sunday to you! 🥰

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  2. Such honest insight. I mentioned that Lisa reminds me of my older sister. My younger sister and I have noticed that her life has improved since our mom died. Freedom from toxicity.

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  3. Oh, this is so good. I love Lisa’s 99.9% heart and your obvious joy to be her sister. It’s so amazing to hear how she is healing over time to in her one liners show. “A growth statement, to be sure.”

    The way you stand by her side and let Lisa shine – beautiful!! I know Sonny and the best of Sue are beaming down – as are all of us! ❤

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  4. What a profoundly insightful and moving comment from Miss Lisa.

    It is much easier to put much of the rough moments away now isn’t it? I too find myself remembering more of the gentler times, honestly the sober times, and there is a true sense of appreciation that comes along rather than the endless rehash of negative crud and hurt. I’m so glad you have Lisa, and that she has Vicki and you remain each others support.

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    1. Deb…yes! You understand and I love it. Thank you for that observation – about the gentler times. I’m so happy to see Lisa progressing and what a joy it is to have you in our world, cheering us on. Xo! 🥰

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  5. Very sweet, Vicki. One of the more interesting aspects of your book was that Lisa, while being developmentally disabled, also had a sense that Sue’s behavior was inappropriate and manipulative.

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