I feel as if there have been so many times I wanted to write about the thoughts in my head, occurrences in my life, and the process leading up to this post since the last one. However, grief, time, love, work, revision, review, and parenting had other plans. So, bear with me as I empty my heart onto this page so I can move forward.
My hope is that with my inviting you to process with me, you will be encouraged to take time and process your life occurrences and the emotions that come with this. We are only capable of holding onto so much. We hit a plateau at times, and then things get piled on. This can lead to late processing, dealing with past emotions that can harm our march forward, our healing.
So, please make sure you take deep breaths, and reach out to me if you find yourself needing a moment to talk to someone as you walk through my grief. And don’t worry, it’s no charge to talk to me 😉.
First the facts, time, grief, and love:
I feel like my life came to a drastic halt on Monday, 4/21/2022 at 7:44PM. My mother messaged me and asked if I could call her when I was free. When I did, I realized it was bad news just by the sound of her voice. It was about my sister, Staci. She was in the hospital, medically sedated, intubated, and in pretty badshape. We discussed the wishes of my mother, brothers, and I. If she should go into heart failure or not make it through, what do we do? My sister fell quite ill as she did not inform anyone of how sick she truly was. Her liver was in end-stage failure and she was declining at an extremely rapid pace.
My older sister, Staci and I have a wonderful, messy, and most times in our adult lives, a tumultuous relationship. She was my hero growing up. I wanted to be as tough, brazen, bold, fearless, and smart as she was. She cared for me a lot when I was little and took on many of the unprovoked outbursts from my father growing up.
As the years passed and we all followed different paths, I guess we grew apart. It is not uncommon at all for this to happen. We would communicate when obliged such as holidays and birthdays like any family. We even got together occasionally to celebrate a milestone or two. These started to dwindle each year as we grew older and our children began to grow.
We all started to shift in our thinking. This is from how we wanted the lives of our children to be, and what generational/genetic things we wanted to change for our children. Staci always wanted children, but due to PCOS, other health issues, and lifestyle it was a difficult thing for her to conquer. She lived through us and our children for a long time. She loved her nephews and niece. She was front and center for them when they needed her there. She was front and center when any one of us needed her to be there. Not always sober, but always there. And it didn’t matter if we were in the wrong, she was going to defend us to the death. That’s just how she was. That’s how much she loved. It was a stubborn, fierce, her way only type of love.
In recent years, I distanced myself so much. I couldn’t save her. I know it was never my job to do so. There’s nothing anyone can say to that. I know it just wasn’t possible. Doesn’t stop the sister, social worker, substance abuse counselor, and human in me though. It is just what we do for family. We try to help, we try to save, and we try to do anything we can. However, until there is a readiness and desire to want all of that, there will be fight, sadness, and heartache.
As an adult, I saw the reality of my sister’s world. She had heartache that was so difficult for her to face and work through. I think my brothers and I wanted her to get through it so bad, we just didn’t truly see how bad her pain was.
In learning some of what my sister was going through from third party information, I was the closest one who worked near the hospital. So, I went to see how she was doing on Tuesday, 3/22/2022. I informed my mother and brothers that I would let them know when I was with her, and demand to speak to doctorsto get a better picture of things.
When I saw my sister laying on a bed in the ICU, Room 9-7, she had tubes everywhere, monitors all over, and she looked so, very tired. The nurse stopped to ensure I was ok as I stood at the door with so many memories, regrets, and sadness running through my mind, heart, and soul. I found myself not being able to go past the doorway for a moment. The nurse assisted in ushering me in to show me what each wire, tube, and monitor represented. She gave me tissues, a chair, and said, “she can hear you, mama.” And she left the room, closing the door behind her.
I sat in the chair near Staci, collected myself for a moment, grabbed my sister’s hand, and began to sob whilst telling her everything I knew I needed to say. I watched as tears fell from her eyes as I was telling her how sorry I was for not doing more, for not calling every moment I had free, why I didn’t, and how much she meant to me. I told her that she was my hero, that much of the reason I am who I am today both professionally and personally were because of her. I then told her that if this world was too painful for her, I understood if she did not want to fight any longer, but I also told her I wasn’t sure if I could handle the pain of letting go. I then just held her hand and placed it on my face while I continued to cry.
I collected myself enough to call my mother via FaceTime so she could see and speak to Staci. Again, tears from my sister’s eyes fell as I heard my mother’s words of heartache and love. I then called my brother, Wayne. He and Staci had an incredible bond that was also tumultuous, but so, extremely loving nonetheless. I watched as he led a prayer of salvation for my sister, told her he loved her, and tears flowed again from my sister’s eyes. I then called our oldest brother, Billy. He spoke with her, she cried again. I hung up the phone and cried a little more. There were no more tears coming from her eyes. There were no more movements or responses like the arm twitch I had originally witnessed upon walking into her room.
I spoke with the doctors and received information that no one wants to hear about a loved one. My mother confirmed later that Staci’s health was declining and at this time her quality of life was no longer sustainable, her liver had failed, sepsis had taken over, and her body was working so hard to manage.
As a family, we decided mid-week that Staci had fought the good fight. Staci was tired. She deserved the peace that she had been running after her whole life. My mother flew in from NC, we contacted friends to say goodbye to her over FaceTime, we contacted family too.
By Thursday Staci had been taken off ofsedation for three days and wouldn’t wake up. Her vitals were slowing, the oxygen from the ventilator had been pushed up, and we knew she was waiting for mom.
By Friday, 3/25/2022 the immediate family she always protected, battled with and for, hysterically laughed with, and loved with every ounce of her being surrounded her as she was taken off life support. On Saturday, 3/26/2022 at 4:08AM Staci finally reached that place of peace and eternal rest.
You will never know how difficult it was for me to leave her side for the last time. Wanting her to wake up and argue with us, needing to hear her say, “Papp, stop it’s ok. I love you too.”There’s a pain I never want to have to describe, that’s the pain. Raw, deep mid-heart, palpable, physical, and emotional pain.
Later that Saturday we surrounded my mother with food, family, grandkids, memories, smiles, laughter, and tears. I think we all needed that. In the only fashion I know my brother Billy could, he told Wayne and I that it was time for us to forget everything and leave it in the past. It was time we realized we have one another and we need to show one another that we love each other. I drove home that evening with such a heavy heart but a thankful one. Thankful because I know it was always something my sister wanted and in honor of her, we made an agreement to do just that. Heavy because, man she would have loved to have that when she was alive.
I called my friend, Shelly as she continued to reach out. She also assisted in writing and singing a great song called, Grace Like Waters. In NY fashion, I cursed at her: “You know, I heard your stupid fkn song not long after my sister passed.” “I watched as my brother ministered to her, led her in prayer, and tears streamed down her face. Then I heard that fkn song and I wanted to thank you.” I know, best review ever, right?! At least that’s what Shelly said as we laughed and cried at the same time.
Faith and fight:
I had been wrestling with my faith for quite some time. I think my last post was clear about that. And while I again won’t get into specifics, I had doubts but deep down, I never stopped believing in God. Listening to the song I mentioned above, all I can recall is watching the actual grace falling from my sister’s eyes when she heard each of us, when my brother ministered to her. When he told her that we needed to see her again one day. I say that because knowing she was ready but had one last thing on this earth to do was evident. The one last thing God knew we needed, to see the tears falling. Extending us the grace of seeing that she was entering into eternal rest and we will see her again. And while I may not give the actual experience justice, I hope I have given you a glimpse of what we saw as we shared this moment. It was heartbreaking and beautiful.
With hearing a lot of the things my sister had been subject to, it was essential for me to make sure I walked through all of my own issues. How could I begin to reconnect with myself, my faith, my family, my children, and my work if I am unable to continue the process of growth in a healthier way? We cannot run from things forever and I am in no way fit enough to run up a flight of stairs let along a whole past.
So, one by one I faced and fought through some pretty difficult emotions. I faced a few past hurts, and I allowed myself room to process and heal. While I am still stuck in the end-stages of processing and healing, I am seeing the fruit of gentle confrontation and humble reconciliation. Through this short journey, I have been able to forgive in a capacity I never thought I could. I have been able to uncover some vulnerabilities and share them with those I love the most. We will see if that love can last through my vulnerabilities. lol
Honesty and rawness like this always suck, but it’s necessary. This is especially the case when you go through heartache, and past hurts. It’s just a part of life and if you share this life with others, be it family, friends, a significant other etc. then it’s important to show these vulnerabilities. It’s important to allow those who are extremely close to you a chance in knowing you are not super human. It’s ok if we aren’t. I promise.
I miss my sister like crazy. It’s difficult to explain how we barely talked but there have been so many times lately I have wanted to call her and tell her about my day, about some of the light at the end of my tunnel, about some of the closure that is possible. Healing is possible, love is possible to experience but you accept the hurt, the loss, and the lessons through it all. While my heartache won’t change, I won’t stop denying myself the chances to heal, face each emotion and embrace them as they work throughout my time here, do more of what I am called to do, and fully embraced the person I am called to be.
I hope this brings you closer to the emotional healing you may need to face and move forward. I know it will be a journey and I know it will hurt, but we are worth it. You are worth it. Staci was and still is worth it. Her story here on earth ended in a giant display of vulnerability, boldness, and love. That is how I will always see her.
Love you forever, Staci.
Pappatish
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