Relaxing this morning, I rewind the tape of our holiday in
England. I am watching it muted so that
I have only my own subtitles; born of my feelings on the trip.
Arriving at the airport in Norwich I was anxious for my
first glimpse of Linda. We grabbed our
bags quickly and scanned the arrivals hall.
I’m not sure why, but when I spotted her I was taken by how vulnerable she
looked. We each embraced her as Alex
arrived with the car. Soon we three sisters
collapsed with laughter as we attempted to buckle up in the back.
Laughter followed us throughout our time in England. We laughed at ourselves, each other, and Gogglebox. The TV provided a welcome and frequent break
from the intensity of the emotional responses I was experiencing. I found myself often revisiting the feeling of
Linda’s vulnerability throughout the eleven days. Looking at the tape now, I recognize the
longing for connection and even in the midst of our time together, the knowing
that it was coming to an end and we were leaving her behind.
Watching us in the backyard, sipping tea in the sun, I
remember the feelings of peace and gratitude I had. Linda’s visit with me last summer was so
critical to this trip. The connection
with her then, allowed me to relax into our communion. I was aware of our aging and the gift of our
time together. I appreciated the beauty
of the garden and the birds. I loved
sharing the experience with Ky. I was
thankful that Linda and Alex were relaxed with us.
Linda developed a chest infection during our visit and I
wonder now if that’s where my awareness of her vulnerability was rooted. Ky commented frequently on our genetic
similarities; such as not giving into feeling unwell. In spite of the infection Linda went about
hosting. She tidied, washed, cooked, and
“organized” like nobody’s business!
My tape has now shifted to Carol. I try to imagine her feelings, but I’m not
able to land on anything specific. I’m
sure she was glad to be there and I know she too appreciate our hosts, but I’m
not clear on her emotional state. There
were a couple of times when we were reminiscing about our childhood trauma and I
had the sense Carol preferred not to engage.
I was surprised when she shared that mom and dad had taken her and Bev
on a trip to Chicago. This image is in
such conflict to anything I remember.
For my part, I felt defensive of Linda and angry that
horrible things had happened to her. I
felt regret that I had no impact on her experience as a child; being 10 years
her junior. I felt helpless to have any
impact in the moment now. I found myself
wondering what it must be like for Carol.
If she had a bond with dad and loved him, how would that impact her
response vs. mine; I never bonded with him and I never loved him. As I sit now with a still shot of that
exchange at the table in Bickling Estate, I feel our tension as three sisters
attempt to reconcile conflicting experiences.
I hit play again, and see Carol napping, reading, laughing,
helping and soaking up all the sights and sounds of England. I see her appreciating the history, the
buildings, the people and Linda and Alex.
I remember her frequent comments that Glenn would love this or that; I
had the sense she would have loved to share the experience with him. I saw her face light up when one of her brood
would text. I feel her sense of fun
playing cards and I smile now remembering Ky calling her Lenore when we thought she was scamming us. As the tape rolls, her comments; do you know what and I cannot believe it
are often visible on her lips. I have a
soft spot for Carol, and she tugs at my heart always.
As I watch us walk into the Norwich airport after saying
good bye, I shed a tear. I miss
Linda. I miss Carol too.
I contemplate what I will do about that.
