The Unspoken

I haven't checked in for a while about my sister. She's been in great spirits, has a new rental house less than a mile away and all is good with the world. The kids adore having her around- well, maybe not Ben because she gets on his case, but for the most part it's good.

Jake ran downstairs last night and asked if he could have a sleepover at Aunt Cathy's house. Not tonight, I said, it's a school night. But Friday would be fine.

He beamed.

Jeanine, too, said to me later in the night, It's really nice to have your sister around.

All of which doesn't speak to the unspoken. She's still losing weight, and lemme tell ya, she's eating. She has an odd lump on one side of her belly- probably a hernia.

Not good. Not good at all. I don't think either of us could take the emotional roller coaster of another surgery. I remember my mother's second surgery- the first ended with a temporary colostomy. The second, six months later, to reverse it- much smaller, easier surgery, they said. No problem.

She almost died.

I know it's a rainy, gloomy day. I know I'm in a bad place. I know everything will probably be fine. She has great doctors, and is getting the best care probably in the world. But for all the steps forward, all the positive, I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

I can see your eyes roll, Donald.

Time for that long nap.