Reflections on the Loss of my Sister

She died 51 days ago; I lost her 50 years ago when our mother forced her to move to Seattle to give a baby up for adoption that our mother did not want.  My sister revoked the adoption papers, with the help of a compassionate social worker, and kept Stan, who is now a 50 year old property manager in Seattle.  He is the oldest of her four sons, my nephews.


This week I talked with a cardiologist and a Cardiology nurse.  Both spoke to me of tobacco as a drug.  I know this, but I have not known it.  Both doctor and nurse told me there are no rehab or detox centers for coming off this drug.  So it is a drug, but the only available hospitalization is when the drug is taking your life.


 I go to programs to get support as a member or friend of addicted or troubled personalities but none for smokers or ex-smokers.  So I used to argue with my sister about her smoking, that or listened so long she would ask if I was still there.  And when I was frustrated, I would say to myself  I just can't communicate with her and, rather than get angry with her, I would just stop calling for a while until warm feelings returned and the cycle of arguing/listening/detachment would start all over.  I did this with my mother because her drinking bothered me but I stayed away the last 4 years of her life. 


Anyway I made of all with my sister this some kind of personality thing or something about one of us "getting into recovery" and the other not.  I just didn't get it; I was trying to talk to someone on drugs--all the drugs in cigarettes.  Then when she stopped smoking (remember no detoxes) sucking Commit lozenges all day for months I am told, I was left with an angry, negative interlocutor.


Although I wrote her a letter of apology for my coming and going (and she always took me back), it was too little, too late.  Lots of anger and discomfort was projected on me.  After she died, people carry on her battle against me.  I am feeling sad and wanting to reminisce and I reach out to family and I hear and feel the anger.  I stopped.  I have my own grieving process.  I am working to honor and commemorate her in the institutions that mattered the most to her: the Jewish Family Service of Spokane Valley, Temple Beth Shalom, and the Good Samaritan Society in Spokane.  Yesterday I spoke with Bill at Plantland.  We are working on planting a tree in her honor in the courtyard of Dayspring, the unit for Alzheimer and dementia patients for whom she cared very deeply.  On the tree there will be a plaque stating the years of her service at Good Sam's.  More will come to be in both feelings and actions.