By May 7, 2011

Changes Aren’t Permanent … But Change Is

I remember riding in our big Suburban, windows rolled down, hot Oklahoma summer air on my face, blasting Rush’s Moving Pictures album on 8-track. Were we going to the park? Maybe the pool? That part I don’t remember. But I do remember my sister making time for me. I remember her words and actions shaping me as a person, even then.

A lot has happened between this year and last.

There were times when the family found a new reason to celebrate:

and unfortunately some new reasons for sorrow

You would be proud of Sam. She’s walked through some fire in a way that reminds me a lot of you. I know where she gets her resilience. She married her Shan this year; he’s a great guy and you would like him.

There have been some changes in my life, too. We moved out of Virginia and into Minnesota.

In general it’s hostile, in more ways than just the weather.
Yeah, that’s the end of March.

However there are moments of beauty, and I wish I could share them with you:

One of my best friends lost her mom this year. It brought up all sorts of memories from when you died; how people react differently to things, how some band together, how some become isolated and wither. I like to think that you’ve taught me a lot about loss, and how to tell people how much I love them and how important they are. I like to think that your passing helped my friend with the passing of her mom. You’re still here, still making a difference, still being my teacher. Thank you.

Places, work, family, life … things change. “If you don’t like it, change it,” you once told me. I’ve taken that advice to heart. It’s made the difference between suffering in silence and squeezing out what is best in life. Your daughter felt a mother’s loss this year, but it’s brought her love and support from all corners. She moves on. We left a lot of really good people back home, but we’re discovering that good people can be found everywhere. We are stronger together for this. We move on.

When I waver, I sense you in my heart, cheering me to be like this:

You have been an example of strength, and an agent of change. I will never forget the things you taught me.

So as I rode home yesterday on my motorcycle, visor cracked, cool Minnesota spring air on my face, blasting The Qemists’s Stompbox on my smartphone, I remembered my sister making time for me. I remember her words and her actions shaping me as a person, even to this day.

I love you, Sue.

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1 Comment on "Changes Aren’t Permanent … But Change Is"

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  1. Kimberly says:

    You think and write so beautifully. I can’t stop these tears rolling down my face, which has a smile on it.

    How lucky to have you as a brother.

    Luv u