Sisters

The donations are rolling in. Thank you. I am touched both by the donation, but also the messages of good will.

I had a lovely local run last evening of 5 miles. It was as much for therapy as for training. I was cold and tired and felt the need to get the blood flowing after a stay of stodgy sitting and staring at (note I did not say correcting!) essays.

I'm tired and emotional. Those long runs definitely take their toll; Etty's posting of yesterday also has an effect.  A friend, a much loved friend, has suggested in the past that I try to say something of how Etty's illness makes me feel. I'm not sure that I'm able. I don't want to burden Etty any more than she already is. Even writing this feels odd. I know, from someone who suffers from Lupus, that part of the illness is worrying about  the effect of the illness on her family. I think that came through in Etty's post yesterday as she strained to give some quality time to her son.

I can tell you that I am frustrated because right now I am not in a great position to go to America, although I admit to pondering it. That frustrates me and taps into some of my personal issues, namely the weird guilt that can hover around my own childlessness. Yes, one of the most irrational feelings is that I can feel guilty because Etty, who is a mother of three children, is sick; I am hail and hearty and unburdened by the responsibility of children. I can down tools, relax and go to bed early (my greatest luxury in recent times) when I like. I don't have huge amounts of housework to do and so on. I am pretty sure that most of you can understand how I might feel guilt, most of you will also recognise (as I do myself) that this is utterly irrational.

This is where the marathon comes in. It coincides with my inability to travel much right now and my discovery of running over the last two to three years.  I can do this for her. I can offer her some spiritual support, perhaps, by doing an event for her, particularly one that requires some long-term planning and effort. I can raise funds for a related cause, particularly one that offers support to people as well as research. A blog, it dawned on me, offers an opportunity to raise awareness. I have seen in Etty, and in my Lupus friend, the way these chronic illnesses can eat away at their lives. I have found over the years that sharing, people knowing or willing to listen can ease a burden. I am hoping that this campaign does that. I might not have pursued it, if it were not for early expressions of support and interest. Thank you.

There are other feelings too. I am reminded of these this morning as I chat with my mother whose sister is moving further into Alzheimers. We spoke about the importance of sisters. When Etty was first in the throes of being diagnosed, I was quite surprised at how emotional I got when telling one or two close friends. At the time, you may recall from Etty's earliest post, there were very frightening illnesses being bandied around. Mind you, episodes as described yesterday seem as frightening now. I felt utterly vulnerable, quite shredded, by the prospect of something happening to her. It felt as if a valuable, indeed a necessary, prop might be removed at any minute. I would fall down.

Let's cut through the 'mush'. Etty and I are quite different. Sometimes, I want to shake her loose a bit, move her out of her head a bit. Sometimes, I think I annoy her with my exuberance and enthusiasm .. . maybe? Yet, I have the greatest respect for her. In college, I would even say that I was full of awe for her grace, musical talent and her beauty. I felt quite ordinary beside her. I might even say, on reflection, that I lived a little bit virtually through her social life, although a not-so Holy Nun myself. I went to concerts and with her friends afterwards for a pizza or ice cream, as dictated by our collective budget.  She and I met and chatted over long cups of cheap student coffee and confided thoughts on those around us assuming, I think, permission to gossip to a sister where we might not to other friends. That's it, really, isn't it? If you are good friends with your sister, that friendship brings a level of loyalty beyond friendship. She became part of the new found freedom of thought that comes with leaving home, but with the freedom to include thoughts on home.

We worked together, I like to remember, when our parents' marriage collapsed. There was a bit of minding to be done of littler ones as the elders found their way. Etty was just finishing finals. I told her to stick with it, I would keep an eye now and over the Summer would be her turn. And that's what happened. In more recent years, I have known the pleasure of chatting about family stuff, knowing that she is intelligent and trustworthy enough to not be influenced in her relationship with other members. I have known the pleasure of shared recognition of faultlines, influences, values to be kept or discarded and so on.

We can cope with the distance. I don't pine for her to be closer anymore. I can live and manage that in today's technological world. I am distressed and frustrated to think of her ill, for her sake. I get scared when I think of her ill, for my sake.