The Last Four Days....

I pulled into the driveway on Thursday night after another hectic day of running around, and he was out watering.  We exchanged hellos, and he asked if I wanted to take the kayaks out.

Convinced I would fall asleep on the water, we tentatively planned out the week.

Friday? 

"Can't."

Saturday?

"I think my sister is going to die on Saturday."

"Did your brother say something changed with her?"

"No.  Just gut feeling."

He finished up his watering, I went inside.  Friday came.  I worked and picked up Youngest from day camp.  He started packing for his overnight camp on Sunday, made the list, and we all headed to Walmart. We bought the necessary evils... extra shirts, a lantern, socks, a three pound bag of Swedish fish. You've got to have all the essentials for Scout camp, ya know.

Saturday came.

I worked, he painted the window casings and sills so I could install the new shades.  He washed the cars.  We took the kayaks for a spin around the perimeter of "our" 62 acre pond, around to the half way point, and then made a bee line back to shore.  The water was only a bit choppy, the sky overcast, the shoreline quiet.  It was nice, floating around, just me and him.  Peaceful.  Relaxing.

Back home, we grabbed Youngest since we wouldn't be seeing him for the next 7 nights, and headed out for dinner. Saturday night was quite busy downtown and had us bouncing from place to place for a table, checking out the local architecture, reading the history plaques adorning the 300 year old homes. We ended up at our usual place on the waterfront, about a mile from where we parked.  The night was unusually cool, about 60 degrees, breezy, but quiet.  Youngest had the gluten free pizza, Tony a burger, and myself, chicken santorini. Somehow my inability to pronounce it never inhibits it's deliciousness.  The walk home was quiet, dimly lit, and peaceful.

"This turned out to be a pretty good day." he says.

"Yes it did." I say.

"And my sister didn't die."  he says.

Saturday's extra curricular activities, left us sleeping in late Sunday morning.  I rolled over and kissed his face all over like I used to, way back when we were dating, not unlike a mother kisses the faces of her children embarrassing them in front of all their friends. He got out of bed shortly after and checked his phone in the kitchen.

His sister past away at 7am.

And just like that, she was gone.  He would never know why she had chosen not to speak to him or their mother for the last 8 years.  He would never know why she did not want to see them the week before   She took with her the family's infamous stubbornness and anger despite how easy it would have been to let it go.  The extended family is already swarming, and talking behind each other's backs.  Posts have shown up all over face book preaching the ultimate in hypocrisy.  Her obituary mentions everyone but her own mother, which I pray was a careless oversight, but still hurtful nonetheless.

He left on Sunday morning to meet his brother to tell his mother who is home on hospice.  She has not taken it well and I wonder if this will mark a tremendous back slide for her.  The wake is Thursday. He is unsure of if he will attend.  Most likely, he will not.

The woman in the coffin is not his sister, fragile and sick.

His sister took him to yard sales.

His sister drove around in her car back in the day, listening to music.

His sister spoke her mind.

That woman is not his sister. Just as the people who will descend upon the funeral home, for the most part, are not his family. The chaos and dysfunction they bring with them will not effect him as it is not his to endure. That well is full of tainted water, and he learned long ago not to drink from it.

Today, he needs time.

Time to get used to knowing he will not run into her on the street.

Time to mourn the sister he had, and accept the stranger she became.

Time to appreciate the time he had, and the time he still has with the chosen family he has left.