Gifts from my Sister Melinda
The past two weeks have been a whirlwind. I will never view February the same, especially Valentine's Day. We received the call that Melinda was in liver failure on Valentine's Day. We packed hurriedly and began a family trip like no other.
So there was the gift of a family trip with my Dad, Mom, and sister Tonya. We would never choose to jump in the car and take a 25 hour trip with only a quick stop for 4 hours of sleep. But it was a gift to be thrown together, all of our energies and attentions focused in unison upon our beloved daughter/sister.
When we were little, I remember most fondly our trips together. Whether long or short, Melinda and I shared that back seat sanctuary where we would sing the songs from church together. We would sing the harmonies from a young age. Although I was the oldest, she was always the choir director. Tonya eventually joined us there in the back seat. I can remember getting in the car and the sense of joy I had in being there singing with my sisters.
When we arrived in Tampa, FL at the Tampa General Hospital, there was Melinda, surrounded by her kids and waiting to receive Mom and Dad. Somehow, she was unaware that Tonya and I were also coming with Mom and Dad. Someone thought it was supposed to be a surprise and so she was surprised and relieved to see her sisters.
The next gift she gave was laughter. Her sense of humor was still intact, though her speech was slow. She kept us laughing in the hospital, while we all expressed our love for her, and she, her love for us.
Days later, after we brought her home to Houston for hospice care, she slipped into a coma and was no longer able to speak to us. Hearing her rhythmic breathing became her gift to us. It was filled with the sense of her expression of praise to God, and was the sign of her presence still with us. It was a beautiful sound and I drank it in and longed to be in the room with her as much as possible to hear every breath. What a gift each breath was.
In the process of caring for Melinda at this time, she gave us a new sister friend. Her compadre, Ruthanne, who tirelessly supervised medicines, watched over her and cared for her side by side with us.
When Melinda parted ways with her body, there was this strange gift of joy which we felt for her. We felt that she had "made it, fulfilled it, or accomplished something huge." And she had.
At Melinda's memorial service, we were able, through the sacrificial gifts of so many people, to worship as we had in Melinda's childhood and young adulthood. We were able to be together, her kids, their cousins, our multiple extended families, friends, co-workers and church families, old and new. We felt her presence with us as we worshipped wholeheartedly.
The gifts of her three children:
Her eloquent first born son, John, sharing at the Memorial service bolstered us all. He cared for her in so many ways throughout her life, stayed by her side every day and night in her last week of life. He amazed and amazes us in so many ways.
Julia dazzles in her ability to connect with and care for others. Her affection is infectious and it was such a balm to hold and be held by her in Melinda's last days here. My mental picture of Julia in the hospital bed with Melinda, both beaming at each other with love will stay with me forever.
Brian amazes in his tenacity and authenticity and communicated so much love for his mom while she was here but slipping away. He is so very intelligent, reads voraciously, loves tenderly and has a clever sense of humor that could well make him an effective stand up comic. How I love these three incredible gifts.
The gifts continue to trickle in. We are carried along by the thoughts and prayers of so many. Fed by the meals that others have prepared for us. Consoled by the cards and notes. Surrounded by family and friends.
As life will begin to return to its usual pace, I am also aware of a gift that makes me chuckle: the loss of a few unwanted pounds. We sisters usually cheered each other over pounds lost but more often encouraged indulgences when we were together. Rarely did we spend time together and lose weight. I doubt I will keep it off sister, but I'll take it anyway. Thanks ever so much Melinda. Love you so, so much. xoxoxo
So there was the gift of a family trip with my Dad, Mom, and sister Tonya. We would never choose to jump in the car and take a 25 hour trip with only a quick stop for 4 hours of sleep. But it was a gift to be thrown together, all of our energies and attentions focused in unison upon our beloved daughter/sister.
When we were little, I remember most fondly our trips together. Whether long or short, Melinda and I shared that back seat sanctuary where we would sing the songs from church together. We would sing the harmonies from a young age. Although I was the oldest, she was always the choir director. Tonya eventually joined us there in the back seat. I can remember getting in the car and the sense of joy I had in being there singing with my sisters.
When we arrived in Tampa, FL at the Tampa General Hospital, there was Melinda, surrounded by her kids and waiting to receive Mom and Dad. Somehow, she was unaware that Tonya and I were also coming with Mom and Dad. Someone thought it was supposed to be a surprise and so she was surprised and relieved to see her sisters.
The next gift she gave was laughter. Her sense of humor was still intact, though her speech was slow. She kept us laughing in the hospital, while we all expressed our love for her, and she, her love for us.
Days later, after we brought her home to Houston for hospice care, she slipped into a coma and was no longer able to speak to us. Hearing her rhythmic breathing became her gift to us. It was filled with the sense of her expression of praise to God, and was the sign of her presence still with us. It was a beautiful sound and I drank it in and longed to be in the room with her as much as possible to hear every breath. What a gift each breath was.
In the process of caring for Melinda at this time, she gave us a new sister friend. Her compadre, Ruthanne, who tirelessly supervised medicines, watched over her and cared for her side by side with us.
When Melinda parted ways with her body, there was this strange gift of joy which we felt for her. We felt that she had "made it, fulfilled it, or accomplished something huge." And she had.
At Melinda's memorial service, we were able, through the sacrificial gifts of so many people, to worship as we had in Melinda's childhood and young adulthood. We were able to be together, her kids, their cousins, our multiple extended families, friends, co-workers and church families, old and new. We felt her presence with us as we worshipped wholeheartedly.
The gifts of her three children:
Her eloquent first born son, John, sharing at the Memorial service bolstered us all. He cared for her in so many ways throughout her life, stayed by her side every day and night in her last week of life. He amazed and amazes us in so many ways.
Julia dazzles in her ability to connect with and care for others. Her affection is infectious and it was such a balm to hold and be held by her in Melinda's last days here. My mental picture of Julia in the hospital bed with Melinda, both beaming at each other with love will stay with me forever.
Brian amazes in his tenacity and authenticity and communicated so much love for his mom while she was here but slipping away. He is so very intelligent, reads voraciously, loves tenderly and has a clever sense of humor that could well make him an effective stand up comic. How I love these three incredible gifts.
The gifts continue to trickle in. We are carried along by the thoughts and prayers of so many. Fed by the meals that others have prepared for us. Consoled by the cards and notes. Surrounded by family and friends.
As life will begin to return to its usual pace, I am also aware of a gift that makes me chuckle: the loss of a few unwanted pounds. We sisters usually cheered each other over pounds lost but more often encouraged indulgences when we were together. Rarely did we spend time together and lose weight. I doubt I will keep it off sister, but I'll take it anyway. Thanks ever so much Melinda. Love you so, so much. xoxoxo
Lisa, thank you so much for sharing this. I haven't seen any of you in many years, but remember you all fondly. Praying for you and your sweet family.
ReplyDeleteIn Christ, Marie Tighe
Commented and poof it disappeared. Lisa thanks for allowing me to fall in love and see those 3 little girls. I found myself leaning forward to hear them. Thanks for pulling back the curtain to the last few weeks. Loved the insight you shared about her kids. I've had them along with your family so on my heart.
ReplyDeleteDear Lisa, thanks for sharing your heart, the ache & joy - I'm praying for you dear fren! love, Carol
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing your words, your memories, your heart. You are a blessing to so many. I pray that you will be surrounded by many encouraging words and heaps of comfort just as you have encouraged and comforted others. Much love, Tricia
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