Teeter Totter

This month my Facebook memories have been filled with posts from seven years ago. We'd finally gotten the news about a kidney for Jason, but were met with life-threatening complications in the days that followed. My sister was right beside me during each new development. She rushed to KU with us after we got the call, and kept me calm during surgery until we could see him in recovery. She urged me to remain hopeful when the doctor sat us down and shocked us by saying that we might lose him to a rare complication. After I'd gone many hours without sleep at Jason's bedside, she booked me a hotel room and insisted I take a break. This was only one of countless crises she saw me through over the years. A few weeks ago, I began having dreams about Laura. They've been vivid, and stay with me long after I leave my bed for the day. One morning, I woke in such a panic, and started to call Chuck before I was fully awake. In my mind, I was calling to tell him that I was on my way to their house to see my sister. I'd been dreaming that I'd forgotten to check on her in these past months since we lost her. It was difficult to shake the feelings of profound grief when I remembered that she was gone. I've always known the balance was off in the teeter totter of our relationship. She was ever protective and strong while I was usually an absolute mess. I've been wishing that I hadn't depended on her as often or required so much of her time and energy as she tried to keep me up. These past four years, she continued to support and encourage me, all while enduring unimaginable struggles of her own. There would never have been enough years to repay her for the millions of ways she held me up. And, of course, she didn't keep a tally sheet anyway. Still, I find myself wishing I could go back and dig my heels into the ground and take my turn holding her up.