Both Sides of Love
From the start until the … whenever
Photo by Jessica Ruscello on Unsplash
I am the fifth of six children in my family. My sister, who is now suffering from Alzheimer’s, is the oldest. Even though we are separated by 15 years, we have been tied at the hip from my earliest days.
My sister was the one who got me started reading. She also encouraged me to write and would then read what I wrote and make gentle suggestions.
This was all very natural as she was a middle school English teacher (as they called it back then). Reading with a critical eye was second nature. So was encouraging her students, of which I was one.
I offer this piece because in sharing our story and her struggle with Alzheimer’s, so many readers have commented about what a good sister I am. That is only the half of it. She was a great sister who set an example first. I am only giving back.
The basis of our relationship has everything to do with what we heard from our father daily.
“What goes around comes around.”
My dad believed that if we were generous, people would be generous back. Kindness only breeds more kindness.
Even better than the words was seeing my dad in action. He ran a small grocery store, and my parents scraped by in order to meet their family’s needs. Still, my dad routinely showed generosity of spirit — from extending credit to customers for long periods, only some of whom paid their debt, to giving yesterday’s fruit to someone in need.
Yesterday’s fruit was always the sweetest. That’s one of the reasons we brought it home, too.
I’ve leaned heavily on my dad’s words, especially when my sister was first diagnosed. I knew something was off. There were new and unusual aspects of my sister’s behavior.
Her imagination seemed in overdrive and in odd ways. She’d wonder why I ate the pizza at her house the night before and did not wake her up to see if she wanted some.
I needed to remind her that I live in Massachusetts. She lives in California.
Also, my sister could now get lost walking around her block — a block she had walked around for over twenty years.
Her refrigerator was its own unique horror show, packed with old foods or the same new food purchased many times.
When she was diagnosed, she didn’t understand its implications. We, her siblings, didn’t either. Part of our challenge was that, at any given moment, she could still be the teacher in our classroom — a role she had served for countless others over a long and storied teaching career.
She had those days when she could still explain the themes of certain books or correct my writing. She would show her game.
But just as easily as she had game, she lost it.
During my brother’s and my frequent visits to her, we were able to convince her that living in a senior community would be a better option. The one we all picked offered a calendar packed with classes, movies, and activities to pass the day. The surroundings themselves were lovely.
To this day, we celebrate that residential choice. My sister does many of the activities and feels she has found a community. She will add, somewhat in self-disgust,
“I just can’t remember any of their names, and they all seem to know mine.”
I usually chime in that they don’t all know her name, and it doesn’t matter anyway.
“You make up for it with good cheer and happy vibes. They need that more than hearing their name,” I say.
She just smiles and tells me, “Mom always said you were the wise one.”
When I started this piece, I thought I would find inspiration by calling my sister to say hi. So many feelings arise in one simple call — shared history, love, sadness, and the saying I grew up hearing in the Folger’s coffee commercial, “Good to the last drop.”
That’s my sister. Goodness runs through every part of her.
This time, when I called, the phone rang and rang and rang. It happens often enough because it’s never obvious when to call her. With her circadian sleep cycle off, she’s been known to scour her kitchen in the middle of the night and sleep during the day.
Just as I was getting ready to hang up, I hear:
My sister: Jill, is that you calling me?
Me: Yes, it sounds like I woke you up. (This was certainly the truth.)
My sister: No… you didn’t. What can I do for you? Is everything ok?
I explain that everything is fine and I just wanted to hear her voice and check in. She sounds relieved and tells me we should talk later when she is more awake.
At last, she admits I did wake her up.
While I am not planning her gravestone any time soon and hope there are more “good” years ahead, I can imagine what I might write. I will, for sure, make it grammatically and syntactically perfect for the English teacher. It could start with,
“What can I do for you?”
A pioneer before her time, my sister traveled the world and co-wrote many books on emotional intelligence and diversity with her business partner. They were female entrepreneurs in an era that didn’t have many. Never marrying, my sister lived her life to serve her siblings and the world at large. She wanted to do for others.
Especially me, who she called her “pea in the pod sister.”
When I was nearing delivery of my third child and needed someone to watch my younger kids, one simple call to California led to her getting on the next plane. This came at a time when she was fully booked with clients, helping them build more functional work teams and ensuring everyone had a seat at the table.
All that didn’t matter because I was always at the top of my sister’s list. It also meant that I knew she would give my girls the time of their lives while I was in labor.
My dad’s words about “what goes around comes around” have guided me from my earliest days when I was building conscience and habit.
So, too, have my sister’s words, which I share now:
“Wherever you go, you take yourself with you.”
It was her way of telling me we can’t escape ourselves, so live a life we are proud of. We are defined by what we do. Our behaviors leave a footprint on our souls, so walk carefully.
So why do I call my sister daily? Wherever I go, I take her lessons with me, just as I take myself.
“Both sides of love” is really all sides of love from the beginning to… whenever.
I haven’t decided whether I will read this to my pea-in-the-pod sister or just show her my love, but either way, we win.
very touching
"Yesterday’s fruit was always the sweetest." My life is built, metaphorically, on that fruit.
And I do take myself wherever I go, even if I don't go places often.