June 16th is a very memorable day in my family. June 16th, 1985 my younger sister and youngest sister went with my mom to the grandparents for my younger sister's birthday. I was supposed to go with them, but as a typical 16-year old on the weekend, I slept in, so they left without me and my Dad went to his second job he did on the weekends.
After an afternoon of Doritos and Diet Coke (I can't believe I used to live on that junk...) and watching MTV when it was still showing music videos, I hear screeching of tires into our driveway. I hear my Dad screaming for me as he runs into the kitchen. I jump up, we hug, he's very very upset and manages to tell me there had been an accident.
What happened at that moment and for the next three days completely changed my world, my family and me.
My 12-year old sister, on her birthday, had lunch with the family and followed my then 6-year old kid sister and my mom out to the pool at my grandparents house. My sister was a frog, not only for the green swimsuit she wore out but because she loved being in that pool. With my kid sister bobbing along with her floaties in the shallow end and my mom sitting by the pool taking out her contacts, my sister was doing a lap, pushed off the deep end wall where the underwater light is, her feet touched the metal frame around the light and was instantly electrocuted.
My grandfather later found out there was an electrical short out there. Even though no one blamed him or was ever upset at him, he took that guilt to the grave. My family was devastated, changed, and asking why.
We all grieved and handled it in our different ways, maybe a little too separately. Two years later, my parents divorced.
The good stuff that came from this life-altering experience is I recognized life is short. Too short to get into drama. Drama is stupid. I became more patient. More compassionate. A better listener. Closer to God.
The one major pattern I just recently got help recognizing that started from that moment 22 years ago is how I handle conflict and tough situations. What I do when Luane and I disagree, is I pull back, I disconnect, I put up a wall of shame and guilt for messing something up, not doing something, not doing enough...and therefore not BEING enough. This came from the guilt and shame I carried for YEARS believing I was supposed to be there with my family at my grandparents. Had I been there, maybe I could have saved my sister. I felt horrible about making such a stupid choice as to sleep in. I kept saying I just wanted my sister to come back and tell me she forgave me for not being there for her. I was always there for her when kids picked on her or she wanted to borrow my clothes. I felt the one time she really could have used me, I wasn't there and now she was gone...somehow, I believed it was my fault.
Since we were all handling it differently, I didn't voice this. I expected them to agree so I felt shame. Ten years ago, I finally confronted my guilt, had several keening moments and finally forgave myself, acknowledging there was nothing I could have done and to focus on the good stuff of when she was alive.
It's been 10 years and I thought I was done. Nope. That pattern of retreat had stayed alive. Now I'm focusing on being more conscious, present and not letting old patterns run my life. I run my life. I run it with co-creation, energy supplied by God. My sister is still teaching me things, even 22 years after her death.
My kid sister, as you can see from the photo, has done an amazing thing. She tatooed the dates of our sister on her ankle. I was there and watched her wince and clench while it was being done, the whole time, talking to Tiff and letting her know how much we love and miss her. It was awesome. As my kid sister says, "going through something like losing a sister, you make up your mind as a family that ya stick together. No matter what." Which has helped her be supportive of my being gay.
The year I forgave myself around my sister's death, was the same year I had my struggle and came out. I wonder what else is getting ready to be revealed....
...but at least once a week, usually more, I'll randomly look at the clock and catch it saying 6:16. And every time that happens, it makes me pause, smile and say hi to Tiff, thanking her for looking out for me. I know I'm never alone, but it's sure cool to have that moment to remind me what's really important in life. When you catch 6:16 on the clock, I hope it helps you, too.
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