Sucker Punch

I have recognized that I am going through grief from Bill's and Dad's deaths. Both deaths were expected on many levels. In many ways both deaths made my life easier. That, I also recognize, doesn't exempt me from grief. I say that I am experiencing a subtle undercurrent of sadness. I wasn't very interested in doing the outdoor activities with the family during my first few days in Idaho. I thought maybe when my other sister arrived, I would have the desire to go riding and hiking with her. She's fun. She's always been great company for me. I thought she'd pull me out of my shell. On the morning, the caravan was supposed to head up to Idaho, my little sister posted on Facebook that she and her daughter just had the first of 8 mother/daughter days together. I thought nothing of it. I figured she'd promised her daughter 8 days during the year during which they would do special things together. Nice mother/daughter bonding gift, I thought. Another nice example of my naivete. This was her way of letting us all know neither she nor her daughter were coming to Idaho. Kyle spelled it out for me later that day. And the sudden, shock of that 'news' hurt me in a way I didn't know I could be hurt. That pain drove deep into me. I thought I wouldn't be able to absorb it. I hadn't known I could be hurt so badly---or that anyone so close to me would, or could, do something that would cause me so much pain. This was my younger sister letting Beth---and me---know she was still angry, that she couldn't do the trip to Idaho again, that she was no farther along in recovering from her 'issues' than she was two years ago. This was a situation where she was just not going to show up and her husband and sons would have to bring her lame excuses to us. "Don't insult my intelligence with your lies," I wanted to say. "It's bad enough to know what has just happened. It needs no explanation. It's as clear as day. Please don't further hurt me by lying to me. Remember, I'm smart." I thought my little sister was better. In fact, we had gone over to her house on Sunday and had had a nice time. My sister was out running around. She had had her cold for over three days and she was 'almost over it'. Her husband came in Beth's and made the lame excuse that Sue wasn't well and didn't feel she could do the trip. I didn't confront him on the lie. I felt sorry he was in the position to deliver it; I gave him the benefit of the doubt of not really believing it himself. I know this wasn't directed at me. I know this is Sue's stuff, and I am beginning to believe she'll never get over it. She has let her idea that she was not loved, not wanted, ignored and unappreciated, mold the adult she has become. She's not going to get over that. It doesn't matter how many therapists she sees, how many books she publishes, how many motivational speaking engagement she gets, or how many stand-up routines she does. She's never going to get over it. And maybe the last three years of my life and the recent deaths have left me more fragile than I knew. Until my little sister decided not to show up for the holidays and left her husband and boys to deliver the lie. Her youngest even asked us to pray for his mother's health in church today. Sad. Sad. Sad. I don't know how I will react to my sister the next time she tries to contact me. For the time being, I won't answer her phone calls. I can't play the game where she tells me she wasn't feeling well and I graciously accept the story.