Weave the Web

My sister, Beverly, was nine years older than I.  (“Eight and three fourths,” she would remind me.)  So we grew up in two different worlds.  She was dating a West Point cadet when I was ten years old.

 

A quote from a book titled,  seems appropriate here:
 

You can have instant coffee, instant tea and instant potatoes, but you can’t have instant relationships.  We can’t measure out a portion of ourselves to each other, ad stir once, and be friends,… for “instant” never quite satisfies like the real, and a depth relationship has a mutual history of shared joy and anguish.  It is a mellowed blend of caring and being cared for; of listening, or removing masks (which is seldom easy;) of openness and honesty… without which no relationship is valid.

 

Your mother and I still lived in different worlds; she in Scarsdale and I in Larchmont and Rye.  But she knew my marriage was a difficult one and she was always there for me.  We didn’t talk much – in those days feelings were supposed to be suppressed with stiff upper lips.  But there were many days when I would visit her and she was always gracious and hospitable, even though I knew that her life was not always a bed of pink petunias either.

 

My visits to Florida were fun, and her friends there were the kind who responded to her genuine interest in them and their lives.  No “instant” relationships here.  She really was a “people” person, and they all love her for that reason.

 

The Beverly I knew will always be there for me.  I’m sorry that she had to live so long in a dark world of her own, when talking and listening to others meant so much to her.

 

I especially want to thank Carol for being the primary caregiver in your mother’s life.  She was so steadfast, courageous in making difficult decisions, and above all, so loving in the way she treated your mother.  I know how hard it must have been for her, and what strength she showed.