Today my sister Debbie would have been 60. Would have been. Those are tough words to write, tough words to say aloud. And just as I have done with my mom who died nineteen years ago at 67, sometimes I get caught thinking about what Deb has missed the last three years. That’s a great exercise for the tear ducts, no so much for the heart.
Deb was tough and practical. Our birthdays are within a few days of each other and when I didn’t arrive in time for her 7th birthday she went to spend time with cousins out on Long Island. Before she left she had one request, the story goes, “I don’t care if it’s a boy or a girl but I hope they’re quiet.”
At her memorial service I shared some of my favorite Deb lessons - from the importance of kneading Irish Soda Bread to explaining not everyone was a morning person. After she died and I found myself caught up in grief I could hear her in my head, “Get over it. Toughen up.”
As the grief lessened the message changed, now the voice says, “You can do it.” And I think ultimately, that’s the most important lesson Deb taught me - I can do it. What “it” is depends on the day. And yes, some “its” are easier than others but when you add love (thanks Pops) to the mix, anything is possible.
LIFE IS RANDOM LOVE IS NOTTM
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