I haven’t been posting much to this blog lately (read: for the last year or so) because, well, I kind of ran out of gas – and life sometimes has a way of, well, being life, and you find yourself (at least I find myself) needing to hunker down a bit and regroup. That’s where I’ve been – regrouping. But another really big thing happened that really threw me for a loop and added to my sense of discombobulation: my big brother was diagnosed with multiple myeloma. He’s had a rough go of it between chemo, stem cell transplant and relapses over the past 18 months. It’s really made me stop and think about my life, how I’m living it, what I want from it, and how I need to work harder at being  present. That last thing is a big deal for me, as I tend to dwell on what was and what will be, forgetting what’s going on right NOW. So I’m working on it and  have a ways (okay, a really long way) to go. So that’s my long-winded explanation about why I haven’t updated this blog.
Lately I’ve been reminiscing about my childhood, and inevitably I remember how important my siblings were to me. My mom was diagnosed with brain cancer right around my 6th birthday and the subsequent surgery left her pretty well incapacitated and my dad bailed soon after, so my older sisters and my brother became my primary caretakers. I joke that it was like being raised by wolves as they left out some important basics while expecting me to figure out other things by (I guess) observation. So while I never did learn to tie my shoelaces correctly, I did know the plot of Doctor Zhivago by the time I was seven or eight. But the constant in my life as a kid was my big brother and sisters – no matter what happened, no matter what harebrained thing I did, they were there to pick me up, brush me off, and take me to the emergency room as needed. We were a tight group, with (I realize in retrospect) more than a touch of “us against the world” in us. You know – we might not have parents, but we’ve got each other! My oldest sister passed away 15 years ago, which caused my other sister and my brother and me to close ranks – to become an even tighter circle of trust. And somewhere along the line I just took for granted (although I’m the baby by ten plus years) that our little circle would stay intact for, well, forever.
So my brother’s cancer diagnosis was like a physical blow – no WAY can he be sick! He’s my brother, and he’s supposed to always be there!! I think his diagnosis was almost more shocking than Chuck’s cancer diagnosis. It seemed unimaginable to me that he wouldn’t be there in the background of my life, ready to help, hug or generally call me on my shit, forever. Magical thinking, I know. Maybe it’s me getting older too that has made me stop down so completely and really think about the fragility of life. I realize, too, that a big part of how we define ourselves comes from our family – from the people who have been with us from the start. I see myself reflected in my siblings – in how they talk, in the quirky way they tip their heads or use certain phrases. They’re my tribe. And the thought of losing them feels like I am losing an arm or a leg – like a critical part of me is being taken away. My brother is still fighting (as they said in Monty Python and the Holy Grail, “I’m not dead yet!”). So I guess I’m kind of glad for the wake up call (though I wish these wake up calls didn’t have to entail life threatening diagnoses and/or illnesses – memo to self on that!) – a not-so-gentle reminder to pay attention to the people in my life while they are still here.
Now if only I remember this lesson…