This is my sister, Tammy. She's sixteen years old this summer, and though she has all the hormones and emotions of a sixteen year old, she's got the reasoning ability of, say, a three year old. I don't know if "hole in her brain" is actual medical lingo, or if it's just code for, "her biological mom did too many drugs when she was pregnant with her," but either way, Tammy has difficulties that the rest of us don't have to worry about.
She's a bit rough around the edges, which is to say she sometimes doesn't make it to the toilet on time, bosses people around when she doesn't know what's going on, speaks in her own hard to translate version of English, goes to special ed classes, and is planning on marrying the boy in her school with cerebral palsy, but, "Me wont have no babies, 'cause I be too busy taking care of him." She sometimes rubs people the wrong way, but she's a good kid. She means well and I love her. I'm grateful for her place in our family.
My mom is away on holidays this week and so I'm taking care of Tammy while she's gone. We've had a rough go of it today. There were tears and raised voices and slammed doors. She was mad. I was mad. We both went for walks in the opposite directions. When I came home I put India to bed and went to the kitchen to make some coffee and relax. I found this.
And again, and as always, I am amazed by the generosity and grace in my life given to me with such open handed kindness. I went to her bedroom and told her that I still loved her, too. We hugged (we never hug), talked, and went on with things: I made coffee. She called her boyfriend so that they could happily shout into the phone at each other.
I told my mom the other day that my dad was right. He used to call this place, "The Crazy House". It is crazy, I think, but in a way that portions out difficulties with a double measure of blessings. This is not easy living here. Three teenagers, a four year old, a million pets (we're getting another dog next week), and two women.
Yes. What the say is true. The family unit has disintegrated, but in this case it has fallen apart into something beautiful.
8 comments:
Having folks like your sister on both sides of both our families, I understand the frustration, anger, and unconditional love it sometimes takes to stay close to them all. Those notes would fit right in with ours, as would the emotions you describe:):)
Beautiful description of love. What grace you give to her life, and she to yours.
Your family is what love is really about. Thank you!
"...but in a way that portions out difficulties with a double measure of blessings."
"...it has fallen apart into something beautiful."
It takes a poet to see and pull together some sense and richness to things that seem broken, yet which give remarkable testimony to worth. You are such a poet, Angela. Beautiful!
thanks, mike. it's good to know.
ann, yes. it makes me all giddy.
karen, it's so crazy, hey? love looks so different than i thought it would.
thanks, cherie. you're such a good cheerleader. i'm so glad to have you on my side!
I love the photo of Tammy, and I love the post. Unfortunately my brain isn't working properly and I can't articulate why I love them both. But thanks...
... oh OK, I found some words. The preciousness of the apology notes is very... precious. Nope I haven't found the words.
Anyway, I'm moved and appreciate your insights into love, family, tricky relationships etc. You seem to have made something that isn't always warm and fuzzy - warm and fuzzy!
Oh it's so good to get caught up on your blog...love it...and love your stories and the way you tell them. I am more impressed with you every time you reveal a new element of your life.
That we would all see our crazies as graciously as you do yours....
And you make me laugh as well.
thanks, leisel.
it's kind of funny, sometimes i read what i write about myself and i think, hey, i sound like such a good egg. funny, that. time to reveal a little more of the ass again.
uh, not my real ass of course. heh.
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