16 years ago today, my oldest sister Clare lost her battle with (non smokers) lung cancer. She was 41 years old, and left behind a husband, an 11 yr old son, and an 8 year old daughter. At the time I was single and 28, and while I mourned for them and me, I had no idea what it meant to be a parent. Of course I knew my parents were sad, this was their firstborn, and even though they had 8 others, one child cannot replace another. It wasn't until Sophie was born that I had a tiny glimpse of how they must have felt. And still do feel, it's not something you ever get over. It gets easier, but it is always there.
Clare died 3 weeks after Carly's First Communion. That was on my mind a lot earlier this month as I prepared for Sophie's. What must she have been feeling, sewing Carly's dress, and making all the last minute preparation, all the while feeling horrible? Of course, we didn't know had badly she was feeling until a few weeks later, when she went into the hospital for the last time. True to form, she pressed on, trying to make everything right for her family. At the time, I didn't get that; now I do. She was a mother and the well being of her children came first.
I have so many memories of that last hospital stay, sleeping in those ridiculous chairs each night with Mary, trying to get comfortable and get the blanket around us, without having the chair snap shut on us. That little thing made us laugh, which was a relief from the reality of the situation. My other siblings and their husbands, wives and fiances arriving, one by one, and the memories we got to share before she left us. My brother Tom "getting in touch with his feminine side" by wearing her peach sweater because it was so cold in the hospital room. It sounds strange, but her death was peaceful, surrounded by her husband Tom, her parents, and all 8 of us. In that room I learned not to fear death; that it could be peaceful, and that it could be a release from suffering.
Life goes on, of course. And everyone deals with grief in their own way. My dad spent that summer putting a bay window in the kitchen of my parent's home. My mom spent a lot of time in Jonesboro, cooking for Tom and the kids, and trying to keep their life as normal as possible. I remember going to daily Mass a lot, it was a comfort to me, and I had my friends to lean on. My own family never knew Clare, I met Terry about 2 years after she died, and of course my kids only know her from photos. Emily has her middle name, and I like that. Every time I have to call her by her full name, I smile, knowing that her namesake was just as spunky. Probably never a rule breaker like Emily, but certainly full of ambitions and dreams.
Frank and Carly are now young adults and it makes me proud to see all they have accomplished. I can see so much of her in them, and it never ceases to amaze me. Frank was recently engaged and I look forward to sharing that special day with him. Carly just graduated from college and is starting out on a new path as well. I don't get to see them as often as I would like, but when I do, it is like time never passed.
This morning after swim team I got out these old pictures and the kids were enthralled when I told them the stories behind them. Sophie is old enough to have some grasp of death, but sweet Michael asked me incredulously, "You mean she's dead, and she'll be dead forever?? Oh NO!" Nothing like a child's innocence to cut right to the heart of the matter.
These pictures are just some of the happy times of her life, they made me smile, and I hope they make you smile too.
From left: Clare, Mary, Peg and me. This photo wasn't dated, but I look to be about 2 years old, which would make Peg 11, Mary 12 and Clare 14. I'm betting this was Easter Sunday, we were living in Pompton Plains, NJ at the time.
Again this photo is also undated, but if Michael was about a year old, then I was 7, which would make my brother Bill (far right)10, and Clare would be 19. The year would be around 1972. I do remember driving down to Glassboro with my parents to take her to college. I thought going away to college was so glamorous. Years later when I was away at school and she was a young mother with 2 toddlers she wrote me often, sent a few dollars, pictures from the kids and cookies whenever she got the chance.
Dancing with our father at her wedding to Tom Aquino, February 24, 1979. I remember so many details about that day vividly. The fact that it was sleeting, and the reception hall had antlers on one wall, which turned out to be right above she and Tom in the family photo that was taken. My 3 sisters and all their very large hair....and me in my braces and huge glasses walking down the aisle at Holy Spirit in our rose dresses that they had made by hand. The arguments between us about the fabric and pattern choices. And we did it all again 3 years later when Mary got married.
I'm not sure if this was taken in NJ or GA, seems like it would be GA. Carly looks about 5, which would make Frank 10. Probably about 1991. Tom and Clare moved down to Jonesboro when Tom changed jobs. It was nice to have them closer, just an hour away from my parents and me.
This was is definitely in Ga, it's dated February 1993. We were at one of Frank's basketball games, and Peg and I had made signs on grocery bags saying GO FRANK!!, anything to gain attention. I think Clare was trying to start the wave in this picture. She had been diagnosed already and was going through treatment, but this must have been during remission. I love the smile on her face.
This is one of my all time favorite pictures of her and Carly. This is at Car's First Communion, and now I know what this day meant to Clare. So many emotions, and more so given what was going on with her. I remember helping her plan the party, and going into Publix a week or so before to order the tray of cannolis. She was adamant that they be authentic...or as authentic a cannoli that you can get in Jonesboro, GA. The dress she made for Carly was a labor of love. My mother recently told me how she changed the pattern the way she wanted it, and added details that weren't originally there.
Now that I am a wife and mother, and now that I am in my 40's, I understand so much more. At 28, someone who was 41 seemed to have lived a life already. Now I know that her life was well lived, but it was not long enough.
However....I still don't think I am a "dog person". I do like it when I come home and he runs to me, all excited to see me. But does this mean I want to get a dog of our very own? Honestly, I would have to say no. For as sweet and cuddly as Rusty is, and he IS sweet and cuddly, he is another living being that I am in charge of keeping alive and (relatively) happy.
Right now I already have 3 of those. The oldest is pretty self sufficient, but the younger two still need a good bit of attention. While I don't have to walk them several times a day, they still need help with the whole potty thing, teeth brushing, food cutting, bathing, etc.
So, for the time being, we are enjoying our visitor, but not looking to add to our responsibilities anytime soon. (Holly when you read this PLEASE do not be offended, Rusty is an AWESOME dog and we have loved having him....it's just that now I know how much work it actually is.)
So I am choosing to embrace this part of me (the non dog person for the time being) and go with it. I don't think it makes me a bad person, but rather a person who knows her limitations. Better to know that before adopting the dog rather than after.
And another thing I learned....it's really hard to take a picture of kids plus dog and have all of them in focus!
