The Friday night following my dad dying was the first night I was able to sleep a full night. Exhausting from crying had caused me to collapse on the bed, only to rise to the sounds of my third kiddo. We walked out to the yard to listen to the morning birds. Something her and I still do regularly. Serenity. Peace. Crisp morning air. The golden glow the sun projects on everything as it rises. The low chirps of the newly hatched babies. These mornings are the blissful moments I strive to achieve in life. These are my life goal.
Number 3 was ready to eat breakfast. Number 4 was making me hungry. We walked to the house, ate loads of fluffy delicious pancakes, then cuddled on the couch. There could have even been a little nap involved.
Our cuddle fest was abruptly ended when the phone rang. It was the hospital my sister and I use. I knew she had an appointment. But her boyfriend and other kiddos where going with her. It was my day off. Well, it was supposed to be anyways.
(Crying, panic voice)”Kate, Kate, My fluids are low (insert garbling, panic pitched tones mixed with crying)”
“Ok I was getting dressed while you just yelled and cried at me. I’m on the way”
When I arrived on the labor & delivery floor, I know I did not look approachable. Sweat pants. T-shirt. Bandana. Pregnant. Worried. I was so frustrated. I can only imagine what those poor nurses saw. I purposefully walked in that room. Determination to make whatever was bothering my sister go away. The room was void of my sister. There were no hellos, no manners. (I was worried).
“What is going on?”
The nurse looked me up and down and said, “And you are??”
Before I answered, my sister came out of the bathroom singing some damn song I can’t remember. At that moment I was relieved but also wanted to punch her right in the face. I’m panicking and you are singing??? Are you kidding me??? I just couldn’t believe it. But I shouldn’t have been surprised. This was my sister. This was how she was. So infuriating. So damn frustrating.
She hugged me and laughed while hitting my arm. “Katy Sue don’t come in here with that serious face!!!”
This is when the nurse assumed I was my sister’s partner. (Her boyfriend was dropping their other kids off to my husband.) As usual, my sister ran with it. She always did. This wasn’t the first (and wouldn’t be the last) time someone thought we were a couple. She held my hand, told me everything that was going on. She had panicked. And as usual, ran with it. As I calmed myself down, she was then mad at me. WHY?? Because I showed up “mad”.
The nurse left the room. When the next nurse walked in, she knew both of us. She laughed and said that we had scared the last lady with our “lover’s quarrel”. She hit my sister’s arm telling her she needed to stop her theatrics! Shortly afterwards, my sister’s fourth baby was born very healthy via a csection.
My sister made me so mad at times. She would push all my buttons. She would stretch my patience beyond any tolerance level I had.
Today,I want my sister to call me to piss me off.
I want her to be mad at me about something stupid.
I want her to cuss me out and get loud on the phone.
I want to hear her complain.
Today, I miss you and love you. Even the most frustrating parts.