Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Happy Birthday Kelli
Five years ago this month, my sister and I stood awkwardly in the back room of a church, the day of our mother’s wedding. Enough time had passed and the pain had begun to disperse but still, we were tender. We’d hurt each other. We hadn’t really spoken in years. She hadn’t wanted to get into the fire. I needed the fire and dove in with a vengence.
I did her daughter’s hair, the beautiful flower girl. She gushed over my child, crawling on the floor. The healing power of children.
At the reception, she confided….a lump in her breast. Her doctor said not to worry. No family history. Just 36 years old.
“Find another doctor.” I said.
“I’ve already made the appointment.”
We stood watching our mother, watching our children. 9/11 just ten days prior.
A glacier melting.
“It’s cancer.” she said.
“I’m here for you.” I said.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, back then.” She says now.
“I’m sorry I tried to force you to be in a place that you weren’t.” I tell her.
“I love you.”
“I love you too Kelli.”
Happy Birthday, my beautiful sister.