extraordinary

 

Yes, I remember, I know I said I'd write that last blogpost and let it go and move on. But I have to deal with my consciousness, and today it's been two weeks since John Carroll's phone call and my frightened, panic dash to the ER for what I didn't know would be my final Time with Gina as brother and sister talking at the end of lives shared for more than eighty-three years. This must be one of those come-and-go moments that sort of hits hard and passes.

My sister was anything but ordinary. That's all I'm going to say. Of the three of us, she was The One with the guts to sass, to talk back, to resist. I'll tell one more story. One day long years ago, I was graduated from college and early in the Navy by then, Gina was sweeping out the shop, the printing plant our father had bought, that was his business after years in the fish business. 

He told her how he wanted it swept (sweeping a floor requires instructing an intelligent person in its exactness?). She was sweeping her way. He ordered her to do it as he'd told her. Angrily, she threw the broom at him, shouting, "Do it yourself," stormed out of the shop in tears of rage, walked home, packed a bag, went to the bus depot and got on the first Trailways or Greyhound for Gainesville.

My sister. I was so proud of her. There was nothing ordinary about her. She lived her life her own way. I was always so proud of her. Always. 

A family member's note on Facebook this morning reminds me that I also may have missed gratefully "loving" folks' postings of prayers and hopes and sympathy as our family lived through the first week, from that Wednesday to the next Tuesday. There was a Time there when I was overwhelmed by both the volume of folks' incoming Love and my awareness of my helplessness to change what was going to happen, and I know I missed responding to someone who sent Love. I do thank you. I am so grateful. I read every message. What you said and sent is still raising me up. May God bless you as I bless you.

Wednesday morning: a Fortnight's Mind.

Tom Dad Carroll Bubba Papa