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It's been a few weeks since the reconnect happened, and it seems so long ago like it never happened. I'll recount here. I had called my sister the first time, after hearing of her cancer. She was weak from the chemo, and gentle although there were odd flareups...talking about how much we loved our labs, and suddenly a gutteral "that stupid dog blah, blah, blah" and then I jumped in and got her back to "but we love our dogs."
I was going to call the following weekend, but it felt "wrong." Same thing the weekend after. And then Istarted having memories flare up of her mental abuse of me, calling me "not human" "the brain" and screaming at me when I made a normal, human mistake, unable to come to my graduation "That's ok, Kathy, I realize you have final exams yourself" and then a few years later screaming at me when I didn't come to hers (Um, Kathy, you've been in school part time for along time, you needed to let us *know* you were graduating). The two happy memories I had posted in here were the *only* happy memories I have of her. All the rest are abuse memories.
It felt even more wrong to call her. And then on a Wednesday, suddenly everything felt "wrong." I heard her sobbing, lying down and very weak, saying to somebody to tell me how sorry she was for how she had treated me. As before, I felt myself stroking her head and consoling her. If anyone had asked, or if I had written, I would have said that I believed her chemo took place on that Wednesday, and that something had gone very wrong.
The following weekend I called. Her chemo *had* taken place that Wednesday. The chemo causing severe pain and weakness in her joints. She had stopped by her hairdresser to pick up a new scarf and her legs suddenly couldn't carry her. She collapsed, sobbing, in the middle of the hairdressers. Now talking about it she was embarrassed, because she *never* cries, ever. (When my mother would beat us, she'd tell us to quit crying or she'd give us something to cry about, and then would hit us harder.) That's one of the big differences between us. It took me years of therapy, and for a long time my therapist would cry for me. But now I cry easily and often.
Anyway, the conversation was pretty stilted. She was back to her "old" self, which is to say prickly and cold. And I realized that really, our relationship died a long, long time ago. She is pretty much a stranger to me.
It feels odd. This has been going on for some 10 years. People with whom there were still "tendrils" of connection have reappeared, reconnected and then the "tendrils" dry up and they move on. I had been able to connect with her when she was weakened by the cancer, but the rest of the time she blocks me. Even now, if I try to focus in on her, I feel the prickliness. She's not ready to let go and be real and honest. if and wehen she is again, I will reconnect and send her love as I have before. In the meantime I am more alone than ever.
And so my dealing with it is not really anything especially strong. It's just dealing with the sickness of a near stranger. "So sorry to hear about that" and so on. It is not lost on me that she hasn't called me in 25 years or so. Not when she was well. Not when she was driving 15 minutes past my home on her way to vacation in Belfast, Maine. Not now, either. :shrug:
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