Tag Archives: stubborn

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Watching my sister die 

I wrote this today thinking about my sister's write up "Watching my mother die" here: https://everything2.com/title/Watching+my+mother+die
Her write up is the fourth one down.

______________________________

Watching my sister die


I know before she does
but maybe not
maybe she knew
that last year

brave front
while soliciting money
on the internet
as the cancer progresses

she describes new treatments
I forget
how many rounds of chemo
she endured

eight years
from diagnosis 
to death

I stop visiting
for a year
after she bullies 30K more
from our father

and he calls me crying

I give myself permission
to change
to be a physician
more than a sister

because as a sister
my sister is 
cruel

she destroys my reputation
with my mother's family

or maybe they already
don't like me
because I think the family rules
are ludicrous and stupid

and I won't follow them

I suppose each generation
has someone who says
wait
these rules make no sense

why are we following these?

I think she will die
by February 2011
but there is another death
unexpected

the death of my hope
for a sister who loves me
for a sister who treats me well

for a sister who loves me

and I let that hope die
and I rise from the ashes
and I choose not to visit

and she uses this
tells people I won't visit
though I don't say I won't

people sent me checks

I sent them back
with thanks
saying

it is too soon 
to leave my nascent business

my sister
stays in touch 
this year

at last 
in February 2012
she calls me

my oncologist 
referred me to hospice
but I am not going

yes, I know
you are refusing to go

I don't saybut the cancer 
is progressing
and like it or not

you will go

my sister 
applies for a clinical trial
miles away

and at last
her enthralled circle 
refuses

they say
we are so tired
we cannot drive you there

daily

I fly down 
for a long weekend
and the hospice interview

I am excluded
but ask to step in
at the end

I ask the nurse
is this like where I live
that if there is a stroke

or a blood clot
or bleeding 
or whatever horror

hospice will keep 
her comfortable 

but will not treat it?

yes 

says the nurse

my sister stands
pushing away from the table
NO she says

I AM NOT READY

yes, I knew that

you are not going

I don't say
but you will go
willing or no

I fly down a second time
and as I leave
she cries

I am surprised

we have not talked
really

there are so many people
in and out
and I've been portrayed 
as a villian

there is still time

I fly down a third time

she is angry, angry
now in hospice
angry that she is dying

I start to sing a lullaby
and she says NO

I study her
I sing Samuel Hall

To the gallows I must go
I must go 
I must go

To the gallows I must go
with my friends all down below
saying Sam I told you so

damn their eyes
damn their eyes

saying Sam I told you so
damn their eyes

she smiles
a vicious secret smile

she is in renal failure
strange
says 

I have to take a trip

I say yes
you do

I don't know how

You will figure it out

How will I find you?

I am surprised again
the connection is still there
buried deep

You said I can take the dragon home
the one I made in college 
and gave you

You are born in the year of the dragon
you will have wings
find the dragon 

and you will find me

oh, good
she says 
relieved

she speaks of a bad pig

I say maybe it isn't bad
maybe it's done some bad things

she shakes her head

I say shall I take the 
bad pig away?

she still is not satisfied

I guess: do you want me
to keep the bad pig
from hurting anyone else

yes
she smiles
yes

again we are alone

I am Bad she says

You are not bad
I say
You have done some bad things

Very bad

She is crying

I say I love you anyway

and she blooms
like a rose
soft in a dark orange blanket
with matching lip gloss

forgiven
and reconciled

flying home
I name the dragon
Bad Pig

and gird myself
for death

three days later
she dies

and then the fallout
and the aftermath
begins

_____________________

I will attach this to the Ragtag Daily Prompt "escapade", though I think of escapades as fun.
The escapade is the photograph. She and I were dancing before my wedding, in 2007. 
I am the short one and clearly I was teasing her about something. 

Sorrow never dies, quite.

Neither does love.


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Print or cursive?

My father’s father was a pressman and the head pressman when he was in Knoxville, Tennessee. This is back in the lead type times, when the type had to be set before printing the newspapers. Before they moved to Knoxville, they lived in Connecticut. My father said that my grandfather helped develop the four color process for the comics. My father would get the new comic books, Superman, straight off of my grandfather’s press. Too bad those were thrown out!

I started cursive in school in about fourth grade and I did not like it. I learned, but I thought it was ugly. My father knew how to write in italics. I liked italics much more and asked him to teach me. I adapted the capital letters to make them easier and then I wrote my papers in italics when we were not allowed to print. The teachers objected but I pointed out that we weren’t allowed to print in the papers, but it did not say, “No italics.” I imagine that some teachers found me difficult.

My cursive is still stuck in about fifth grade and I almost never use it.

Meanwhile fast forward. A law is passed in Washington State that prescriptions cannot be written in cursive. However, it does not say that we have to print. The same loophole. I usually printed prescriptions anyhow, so that the pharmacist could read it. I got compliments occasionally for printing in a legible way. I didn’t spell certain medicines correctly, but the pharmacists never seemed to care about that. Now it is all by fax and since Covid started, even the controlled substances go by fax.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: print.

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Again, again

In theory Elwha is not allowed on my desk. But you can see that I’ve given in and he can use my scarf for naps when I am not using it. Sol Duc very rarely gets on the kitchen table, but Elwha won’t stay off it, especially if we have visitors. He would like to lie in the middle of the table and be admired and patted by everyone all at once. Sol Duc stays on another floor often, but sometimes she decides a visitor is interesting and she shows up. Not on the table though.

I’ve given in on the desk. But NOT the kitchen table.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: serial offender.

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Stone heart

My mind is done and unsurprised. My heart a stubborn rock.
My heart does not give up: loves where it loves. It doesn’t care
about reality or whether it is derided or mocked.
My mind moves on and kicks my heart, wondering where
this tenacity stems from. My heart is done with tears.
It agrees to new friends and joys in dance.
When my mind says forget, my heart jumps and steers
my body into a warrior fighting stance.
My mind is cynical and laughs and derides my heart.
I let them fight back and forth every day.
I cannot reach an end unless I start
to honor my feelings, the heart must hold sway.
My mind moves on, ignoring what you do.
Yet my stubborn heart remains a friend, strong and true.

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Daily Evil: O is for Ornery

OOOOOO, ornery. What a lovely word! It can be purely negative or it can be positive and joking, or it can just mean stubborn.

This is one of Helen Burling Ottaway’s self portraits. My photograph, through glass. This is 20 by 26 inches, pastel chalk, dated 1979.

I had this up in the guest room, but a guest said he felt nervous with her watching. I laughed and said, “Ok, yeah, I can see that.” I moved it. My mother always looked fierce when she was concentrating. She captures that expression very well. People often thought she was angry when she was teaching, but it’s just concentration. I could tell the difference but the students could not.

And speaking of ornery:

Sol Duc helping with the photograph. Sort of.

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Yammer

You’ve joined my silent dead: doesn’t matter
whether you speak or not. You’d like this song
and be jealous of the skills. I yammer
to my dead, the number rising strong.
At sixty I declare that I am middle aged
Mom dies at sixty-one which feels unfair.
My sister dies at forty-nine, cancer rage.
I watched them both as chemo takes their hair.
You too are dead no words across the breach.
I yammer to you daily in my head.
Agates gleam, treasure on the beach.
You refuse to look, I mourn that you act dead.
You sit stubborn in a rocking chair alone.
You don’t believe your dead will call you home.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: yammer.

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small part

there is a part of each of us
that we don’t control
a stubborn stubborn voice
inside that won’t do what we want

insisting: the person promised
we would always be friends
the person promised
so they could come back

yes, I say, but that doesn’t mean
they WILL come back
people can lie
people can refuse to change

they promised
insists that stubborn voice
which will not give up
ever

and no matter what I say
I can’t shake her

she waits
and waits

________________

For the RDP: understand.

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afraid or not?

Photo credit to Dr. W. Strang, with my camera. That is me in front of an truly amazing quartz crystal from Arkansas in the Smithsonian Natural History Museum.

I was back in the DC area with my daughter, visiting my son and future daughter in law. Hopefully after this year I won’t say future any more. This is round three after two postponements due to Covid-19.

Dr. Strang and I wanted to go to the Smithsonian but we got snowed in. The Smithsonian was closed Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. We went on Thursday. We got to the Museum of African American History and it was CLOSED. They were opening late, at one pm. It was 10:30.

We promptly diverted to the National Gallery, which opened at 11:00. We spent a good 3-4 hours there. We went back to Natural History. I worked in the shop there years ago and wanted to buy a rock. I was underwhelmed by the rocks available currently. More expensive and a lot less of them. On the other hand, I suppose there are only so many rocks.

What about fear? I chose fear for the Ragtag Daily Prompt today. I was not terribly afraid at the Smithsonian, but I was careful. After my fourth bad pneumonia last year, this time on oxygen for months, I did not want to get Covid-19. We have used fear before, but I think some words can be reused.