You may or may not have noticed that the last few months I’ve been missing from here. I thought I’d let those of you who have wondered know why.
This story actually goes back to when I was in college and pregnant with my daughter. My sister, Carol, who you’ve read about here, was diagnosed with breast cancer. Carol did what she had to do to win that fight with cancer and actually looked on it as a blessing. I never asked why and just assumed that it made her stronger in her faith.
Now, fast forward to 2018 and Carol was once again fighting that same battle with cancer except this time it was advanced and had spread over her whole body. She fought the cancer for over 2 years and much of that time she didn’t even know it was cancer. Carol, who was like a mom, my sister and my best friend, died Jan. 4, 2019. It still crushes my soul to even write this. But I know we were blessed to have all those years with her after that first bout. Precious years that she helped me grow as a person, build my family and raise my daughter. Years that she got to spend with us and her own children, family and so many others that she touched. She truly left a wonderful legacy.
After Carol’s death, I threw myself into working on my TpT store to distract myself from my heartache. And things were going along well until Sept. 2019 when I took an unexpected trip. Not the fun kind of trip … the kind where you trip, fall and wind up in the ER. I tripped potting plants and hit my cheek on an antique crock, banged up my knee, and dislocated my right pinky finger 90 degrees (worst thing to look at … I still can’t look at the picture). We thought the finger was broken, but thankfully it was just dislocated and needed splinting. Plus, my face was swollen and I had a huge blackeye for weeks.
Rest and relaxation was now on the menu … sort of. I still managed to pull off hosting Bunco a week later. But by December I was beginning to have pain in my left arm. I thought maybe I’d overused it to keep from using my right hand. I needed to give my left arm a rest. But on Jan. 4th I got a call that I needed to come immediately to my dad’s. He was sick and they didn’t know if he would make it through the night. He was 93 and would turn 94 in Feb.
Daddy did make it through the night. A week later he died at home, probably from pneumonia. He died where he wanted, how he wanted. 93 years old and stubborn till the end. Not another man like my daddy. I miss him.
Daddy’s death a year after Carol’s just did something to me. I couldn’t just keep going on. And having to help Daddy lift himself finished off my left arm. So I was in both emotional and physical pain and I couldn’t sleep because of it. So for four months I basically did only what I had to do. So when the Coronavirus came along, it was pretty much more of the same for me. I was actually glad to not have to go anywhere.
Now that May is here, the pain in my arm is finally subsiding and I can now sit at the computer. It still hurts to sleep and I think I’ll probably need PT before it’s all over. Emotionally, the loss of my sister is deep, but not debilitating. It is getting better. I just don’t think I realized how truly woven she was into the fabric of my life. She is connected to almost everything.
My dad’s death wasn’t unexpected. His age; you could see it coming. So it was easier for me to accept. Also, because he was so ready and had been for a long while. He had lost so much and his spirit to live had just dwindled.
So that my friends is where I’ve been and what I’ve been dealing with. I hope to be traveling on a better road now and you’ll be seeing more of me in the future.
Take care of you,