The Loss Of A Sibling

As many of you know, my sister Kathy in Kansas City has been battling advanced Stage 4 breast cancer. When first diagnosed, she was given six months to live. In April, she passed the four year mark. She has shown such amazing grace and peace through this entire journey. The last few months have been quite rough and we knew the journey was soon coming to an end. My beautiful sister left us, surrounded by her husband, daughter and kitties in her home, just as she had wanted her passing. 

More than a year ago she took herself off of chemotherapy as she was tired of not tasting her food in the way she was used to doing. A Watson through and through, she adored good food. Just like our father, she would be planning her next meal while savoring one at the moment. An amazing cook, a big way she showed her love was creating a stellar meal for family and friends. 

Her home hospice care was extraordinary. Much like Jimmy Carter, who she adored, she had a lengthy and incredibly loving hospice experience. They really are angels among us. 

In her early years, she modeled and was her class homecoming queen. Growing up she was a child of the 60’s in so many ways. The second I smell even the smallest amount of patchouli I think of my sister. Once she sent us a tin of coffee as a gift, and I had no idea why, as we live in Seattle, the coffee capital in many ways. Days after receiving it I opened it up but the metal top was gone under the plastic lid. Buried deep in the beans was a joint! 

Laughter is a big thing in our family, and no one made me laugh more than her. Our phone calls half of the time would be us laughing until we cried from stories we were telling one another. For many years in my youth, after Christmas I would fly down and visit her in Florida where she lived for many years. One time we were laying out on her favorite spot at the beach in Palm Beach, and we were laughing so loudly folks kept moving away from us. Just typing that makes me laugh! 

On our last visit to see her, we talked and talked and talked. (Picture this. I opened the fridge and there was a bottle of morphine sitting next to a bottle of Veuve.) We got everything out on the table—not wanting to miss saying something to one another. She did not want me to see her in her last stages. Ever the older sister protecting her baby brother. We said our goodbye in those conversations. As we both knew, we are not fans of saying goodbye. 

The loss of a sibling is a next chapter for me. While in many ways I have been preparing myself for this for quite sometime, I also feel completely unprepared. It feels like a piece of me is missing. For months I have felt a bit ‘off’ which I think was my body, mind and heart preparing me for this. This loss. 

While also feeling a huge sense of calm that my sister is no longer in pain. The little brother worrying non-stop about his sister and knowing she is now at peace.

Kathy was so clear to me that she wanted to be remembered for her life fully lived, on her terms. (I might also add—colorfully!) Not for the illness that took her. So I say, “Fuck Off” to cancer! I take great comfort in thinking of our mom and dad, her daughter Stacey, and our shared beloved childhood dog Frodo, there to greet her in the heavens. 

Hug those you love extra tight this evening. X