Tuesday, May 31, 2016

Sisters

            Me holding Sara as a baby

Today is my youngest sister, Sara's, birthday. I am the oldest of 3 girls. Lisa is 18 months younger than me and was diagnosed early on as being EMI (Educationally Mentally Impaired) and Sara is 6 years younger than me.

Being the oldest of 'the girls' was always a title I wore proudly. I loved being the oldest for all the text book reasons an oldest loves for holding that title. I got to be in charge (opinionated is what I think younger siblings call it but I politely disagree 😜), I got things first...privileges, clothes....discipline, I had loads of responsibilities. I loved it and loved being that for my family even when my sisters may or may not have loved my title as much as I did.

As the oldest, the direction and request I heard most while growing up went a little something like this.  Amy, where are your sisters. Amy, watch your sisters. Amy, can you see your sisters outside? Are they in the pool? Are they alright? Amy, did you see what happened to Lisa at school today...can you explain because she isn't able to fully articulate what happened.  Amy, take your sisters to the bathroom and make sure they are alright in there. Amy, help your sister with her stuff. You get the point.

I'm grown up now and have 3 daughters of my own. Being a firstborn is probably why I love being a mom so much...wanting to protect comes natural for me. However, I find myself asking the same of my oldest, Emma now. Emma, where are your sisters? Emma, did you see what happened at school? Emma, can you walk your sisters to the bathroom and make sure they get back alright? Emma, watch out for your sisters. We all do this to our oldest kids, right? It's natural. It's like they are an extension of us as parents...a fill in when mom and dad can't be around. It's a good thing. We are teaching them to look after somebody else. We are teaching them to make sure another human being doesn't lop off a limb while using the paper cutter, or drown in the bath tub or get taken in a public bathroom.

It is ingrained into the first born of almost every good family. To protect, cover and stand up for every child younger than you.  I'm not saying we do it well. I'm just saying it is asked of us from as early as we can remember and we try (for the most part anyways...teen years may get a bit dicey if there is a boy involved) but for the most part we really do try. We try hard to protect them when our parents aren't close by, we fight for them, stand up for them and make sure they don't get hurt. I feel my desire to do this was even more heightened by having my sweet sister, Lisa to often look out for when she couldn't stand up for herself.

It has been said as the youngest in a family you get shadowed by the oldest but, as an oldest, has anyone ever considered that the younger ones don't get shadowed? Maybe the older ones, in effort to protect and pave the way, say to themselves, I'll go first to see if it's safe for you because that's what we've been told to do.  Maybe not always in that noble of terms but maybe we just want to go ahead to make sure the younger ones don't get hurt.

We are told to protect. We want to protect. We love our younger siblings and out of that fierce love we sometimes admittedly get a little over zealous with the helping out part and it lasts far longer into adulthood than it probably needs to or that we would want to admit. But we do it anyways.

Today as I wished my sister, Sara, a 'happy' birthday.  I found the 'happy' part of that phrase not applicable this year. Our family has had quite a year already (and that would be a gross understatement). When Grace was taken from us 4 months ago I had a flash back of the time my sister lost another child (yes, Sara has lost 2 children now). I remember being in the hospital after she had the surgery after her ectopic pregnancy. She lost her baby and as she was still asleep from the anesthsia, I walked into the dimly lit room and stood by her bedside. As I watched her sleep my heart broke from her loss. I draped myself over her and wept for her loss.

Four months ago, different circumstances, but I stood in a hospital waiting room next to Sara the night of Grace's accident. I just stood next to her, eyes glazed over, hands held and staring at the wall in shock. She whispered something to me that night I'll never forget and it took root in my heart but it wasn't a new emotion to me. It was a simple request yet a request I had been trying to fulfill in a myriad of different ways for my entire life with her (and Lisa). I have always loved being her big sister. It's probably one of my favorite titles I have in this world. I love her fiercely. My heart broke that night. I wanted so desperately to help make this right. To fix. To protect. To carry. To do something. Anything to take away the intensity of this pain. I still feel this way. In my mind, those requests from my parents to watch out for my sisters have never left my heart. Yet, I am helpless in doing anything but stand by her side and love her. I would give anything to take this burden from her, hide her from pain or at least offer some comic relief in the midst of it.

For the oldest, it is hardwired into our DNA to try our best to help protect, help, offer fight and opinions (even when unwanted). It is something I have had to try very hard to not do as an adult and especially lately. I can't help lessen the pain or fix what's broken and make it right. I can't. I can however love her. I can however trust that there is a bigger covering than myself. A refuge and protector much larger than any first born title I hold. And that covering is what I have leaned into most for these last four months when I haven't had the answers. When I didn't know how to make the pain go away or even how to alleviate the tiniest ounce of it for her or for anyone else in my entire family. I run to this chapter when my heart has, day in and day out, ached with an actual physical pain for her loss. For all of our loss.

This is where I find the most peace right now when all my hardwired DNA protective big sister (mom, aunt, wife, daughter) stuff is at an absolute loss for words. Right here is where I find my rest and what I have to do.

Psalm 91

Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High
    will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.[a]
I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress,
    my God, in whom I trust.”
Surely he will save you
    from the fowler’s snare
    and from the deadly pestilence.
He will cover you with his feathers,
    and under his wings you will find refuge;
    his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.
You will not fear the terror of night,
    nor the arrow that flies by day,
nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,
    nor the plague that destroys at midday.
A thousand may fall at your side,
    ten thousand at your right hand,
    but it will not come near you.
You will only observe with your eyes
    and see the punishment of the wicked.
If you say, “The Lord is my refuge,”
    and you make the Most High your dwelling,
10 no harm will overtake you,
    no disaster will come near your tent.
11 For he will command his angels concerning you
    to guard you in all your ways;
12 they will lift you up in their hands,
    so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.
13 You will tread on the lion and the cobra;
    you will trample the great lion and the serpent.
14 “Because he[b] loves me,” says the Lord, “I will rescue him;
    I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.
15 He will call on me, and I will answer him;
    I will be with him in trouble,
    I will deliver him and honor him.
16 With long life I will satisfy him
    and show him my salvation.”

When my heart is weary from the overwhelming pain and it can't take one ounce more of aching, I rest here on this chapter. He protects, He is our refuge and He never gets tired of hiding us under His shadow from it all.

So, while I couldn't make it a 'happy' birthday today for her, I know it is our God that has been and will be our help. I know it is Him who fights for us and protects us. So I trust in Him and I know it is His strength and shelter that is carrying us all through this storm. And there is a beautifully sweet 17 year old girl up in Heaven who knows this truth better than any of us could ever imagine because she is seeing Him do this first hand.

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