Finally, part 4 of 4. my sissie.

eventually, sissie decided to travel north to Oregon to visit with my brother and his family. My brother is married to a wonderful woman. They have 4 beautiful children. At the time, they ranged from 2 to 14 years old. It was here that Sissie started a new phase of her life. She loved being with the kids and found that it pulled her out of her depression. She lived with them for a time before setting out on her own, this time in Portland Oregon. She made this choice so she could be near her nieces and nephiew. She took a job as a flight attendant and was the valedictorian of her class. It was very strange to see her in the role of flight attendant when she had to demonstrate the use of an oxygen mask and how to buckle and unbuckle the seat-belt. I had never seen her behave in such a serious and professional manner. It was here that she met her husband. Of all places, they met at a gay bar, although neither one of them was gay, and neither one of them were drinkers. I don’t know much about their courtship except that they enjoyed talking for hours and had similar senses of humor. Sissie was taking birth control pills to prevent pregnancy ( I say that because I take them to control raging periods or menorrhagea) but it must have been “meant to be” because she got pregnant anyway. Not only pregnant, she was pregnant with twins. Her boyfriend was living in a basement and she was becoming unable to work due to high blood-pressure. They would have to team up. She moved in to the basement and gestated their two beautiful kids. They found an apartment and moved out of the basement just before the births.

I flew up from California to care for my sister while she was required to be on bed rest. I made boxed macaroni and cheese for lunch and sat with her on her bed, which was surrounded by books about having babies and the like. Hours after I arrived I drove her to her OB/GYN appointment. This appointment was a follow-up for her blood pressure, which was why she was required to be on bed-rest. Within 1 hour she delivered her babies, cesarean section—emergently. Apparently, her blood pressure was dangerously high and required an emergency cesarean to preserve sissies’ life as well as the lives of the babies. We had just enough time to call her boyfriend. He arrived in the cutest fluster. He was so nervous and excited that he actually put on my sister’s jacket in an absent minded act…(just like a TV sit-com). Because we had not anticipated the delivery we were not equipped with a camera, although a video cam rested neatly in a small suitcase with sissies personal effects for the occasion. Thank goodness for random acts of kindness. Fortunately some kind person gave us an unused disposable camera. Those are the only pictures of the births. (Thank you, kind person. We have returned your kindness to others…)

During my sisters pregnancy and afterwards, I witnessed a very big change in her. Before the pregnancy she seemed angry, always fighting for justice and fairness. I suppose this is understandable looking at the events of her life. During her pregnancy, however, there was softness about her. She was so kind and loving, as if she was filled with the holy spirit itself. After the babies were born, Sissie and her boyfriend got married on the beach in a private ceremony. Everything was beautiful. It was raining and the babies were dressed in cream colored fleece bunting outfits. Sissie wore a beautiful raw silk dress that seemed to expand with each raindrop. (I think the raindrops made the raw silk stretch.) Her husband wore a handsome batik shirt. It looked like the most perfect Caribbean wedding…except it was coastal Oregon. We stood under umbrellas in the rain as the couple exchange their wedding vows. It was amazing to see the transformation of a woman so close to me.
I don’t mean to make it sound like my sister is without faults and I don’t mean to gloss over any events in our beginnings. It’s more that it is difficult to condense a lifetime of living into a few pages of text. What ends up happening is that you take the life ingredients, mix them up and boil them down…much like the recipe for a cooking project. What you have left is a good tasting recipe or a bad tasting recipe. Or, what you have left is a good feeling life story or a bad feeling life story. I would have to say that my sissies’ life recipe is a good feeling life story. She was born out of the darkness into the light of her own choices. I respect her enormously; especially knowing from whence she came. I think it is certainly true that you should never judge another unless you have walked a mile in their shoes. No one would ever meet my sissie and think “wow, she certainly came from a screwed up childhood”. Instead, they might think, “wow, she is such a loving and fun-loving person—so open and exuberant about life”. I undoubtedly think this a good way to approach life; loving and fun-loving. More and more, I look to my younger sister as someone that I can look up to. Her ideology and approach to life is unique, loving and joyful. She is full of light energy and she is amazing. If I am lucky and blessed, I will get to share the joys of parenthood with the millions of people that are lucky enough to be one. Further, if I am lucky and blessed, it will get to be with my sisters egg…if I am lucky and blessed.

Blah, blah, blah. I am done with this section. I hope I have not freaked anyone out. Blah!