It was a snowy December day...no, that's inaccurate, we live in Florida. It was a hot December day, and my nasal passage was heavily congested and my eyeballs were in pain due to the sinus infection I had been diagnosed with one day prior. I was about to go home to spend Christmas with Jazazzle, but I didn't want to get her sick because of all the treatment she was going through that gave her a weakened immune system. I was already in First Aid for something unrelated to myself or my sinus infection, so I asked the First Aid supervisor--who was pretending to be filling out paperwork so she didn't have to interact with me--what I needed to do to assure I didn't get my mom sick. I told her my mom has brain cancer, and she told me her mom had it too. I told her it sucks. She agreed. Then she told me not to kiss my mom on the mouth, which I found to be slightly disturbing, and I don't think I hid it well.
Fast forward to a week or so later, when my plane had just landed and my nose was bleeding like a MF. Jazazzle was very concerned, and convinced we needed to seek immediate treatment. I really just wanted to be able to put her mind at ease, so I texted my new "pal"...who actually thought I was an intimidating biatch but I had her digits so I could give her inaccurate information about machinery. I asked her if the world was going to end for me sooner than December 22nd (which was only a few days away, at that point) due to the fact that my nose wouldn't stop bleeding and my mom was convinced I was going to die if we didn't get help. She asked me how long it had been bleeding, and I told her approximately 6 minutes. Her response was, "And you haven't called an ambulance????" And the rest is history. With a very similar sense of humor, absolutely no filter, and most importantly, a shared nightmare experience with our moms, there is no doubt this crazy fool is my sister from another mister.
Since my mom got sick, I've found that the people I connect most with are those who, unfortunately, have been through a similar situation as my own. I've found strength in other people who have sympathized with me over the horrors of cancer and what it does to a person you love. But in another sense, I've felt like our situation with my mom is so unique, because it doesn't follow the common "path", which in most ways, is really a blessing. This seems like a cross between cancer and Alzheimers. Other people can relate to the treatment side of it, to watching her lose her hair and trying to plan and brace ourselves for the future without getting too far ahead. But they don't relate as much to the major memory loss. To having to explain things over and over. To her not knowing where she is, what she's done during any given day, or that the holidays have already passed. In this case, my mom is not in pain or suffering. I am in pain, because it rips me apart to watch as she slowly fades away from us. To have someone come into my life who provides that older sister protectiveness and wisdom from her own experience has been a Godsend. She told me one day that cancer is a thief, and truer words may have never been spoken. She understands it like so many others don't, and no matter how much I know it must be difficult to have to relive it, she is always there with the best advice possible that only someone who's been through it can provide. She's told me multiple times how sorry she is that I have to go through this. She reminds me to try to find little pieces to still enjoy, and she tells me I need to call my mom when she is missing hers. She calls me out when I'm acting like a bratty little sister, a talent I've spent years practicing, by the way. She reminds me all the time that she's not going anywhere and that she'll be there even on the darkest days, and that she won't let me fall. But if I fall on my own while walking, that's a very different story and I'm pretty sure she would laugh at me.
A-Woww, the little things you have done for me since I realized we are, in fact, sisters separated at birth could fill a book. When I feel a meltdown coming on, you always make me feel better and you always make me laugh. You only lie to me sometimes, but don't worry, I will remind you about them forever. You spent time with my mom and brother while they were here, and you reminded me again and again with that nice death glare you often give me to just go along with whatever my mom is saying, because correcting her only frustrates her and she won't remember anyway. You made sure she ordered tea wherever we went, even though you knew she wouldn't even end up liking it. You don't let me sit around when you know I'm feeling sad, and you always offer to help me clean my room and/or car, even though I tell you that I don't need help. You keep my wallet receipt-free after cleaning out that pile of old receipts and expired cards and throwing them away without giving me a chance to stop you. You lecture me again and again about doing the right thing, and how I know better, and how I need to stop letting people walk all over me. You don't feel bad for me when you know I'm in a situation because I didn't know how to say no or I didn't want to hurt people's feelings, and you remind me that I got myself into the situation on my own. But you still hug me when I'm sad, and you take me home when I drink too much and come pick me up on your lunch break to retrieve my car. You are extremely jealous of my vests and other wardrobe choices, and you have conformed to calling your Harley Davidson a Litterhawk, because you're tired of this conversation: "My Harley Davidson..." "Your what?" "My harley.." "Your what??" "Fine...MY LITTERHAWK." You eat sugar bricks with me and enable my overall sugar addiction, and you pick me up in the dent-mobile to cruise over to WaWa for some quesa-diLLas that take 14 hours to make. You often say the same things as me at the exact same time because we share the same brain, except yours is smarter, and you speak dinosaur. You tell me when I have pizza sauce on my face, and then get pissed when I'd prefer to just leave it there because I look like an idiot. You yell at me and I yell at you when we are arguing over the same point. When everything goes to shit and I tell you I'm not okay, you remind me that it's okay. You only ditch me for lunch on rare occasions, and when you do, you still bring me back food. You invented the Guinness Float. You make me try new things, like Oysters and Thai food. You slurp oysters out of a shell, and that's f*cking disgusting. You try to trick me into liking hummus. You charge your phone everywhere we go, and nobody even really judges you. You sometimes cry when you think I will ditch you as my sister once I get a boyfriend and get married, but you should know that I never, ever will. Because you are stuck with me forever and ever.
You came along at the perfect time, and you've stuck by my side every day since then. If my mom were more aware of what was going on these days, I know she would be grateful that I have someone like you to help me through this. If this was the series finale of Full House when Michelle Tanner and her memory are two different Olsen twins in the same shot, my mom's memory Olsen twin would be smiling at you and just sofa-king thankful for you for taking such good care of your baby sister-face.
I love you, my pineapple lifesaver! The twizzlers are ready....
