Where are the boys?
That was the last text message I received from my sister Teresa before she passed away last year at age 56, after her long battle with ovarian cancer. She asked that question because she wanted to see pictures of my camera-shy sons. (They continue to resist any of my attempts to take their photo, unfortunately.) When Teresa became much weaker, we set up a wireless digital picture frame in her house so that we could upload photos for her to view. I had previously uploaded photos of our family dog, and she was aware that I hadn’t shared any photos of my sons. Fortunately, I was able to upload photos of them before she died.
Teresa and I were the closest in age because we were born 15 months apart. She excelled academically and was a member of the National Honor Society in high school and earned top academic honors in college. Teresa graduated from college with a bachelor’s degree in nursing and later went back to school to become a nurse practitioner. While she gravitated toward artistic and musical activities, I played softball and developed a strong interest in sports.
In many ways, Teresa was our unofficial family doctor. She would answer questions my parents or siblings had about various medical issues. Her nursing expertise would eventually be needed when my father fell ill on his 80th birthday and ended up being hospitalized for several weeks. The medical care my dad received wasn’t the best, and he had a heart attack and experienced other complications while in the hospital. He was severely deconditioned following his hospital stay, and his nursing home rehab experience was pretty awful too.
Given all that my dad had been through, Teresa and her husband Bob agreed to care for him in their home. They thought he was going to die before Christmas, but he didn’t. With my dad’s strong will to live and Teresa and Bob’s attentive care, he bounced back and was well enough to move into a condo with my mom about six months later. It truly felt like my dad experienced a resurrection moment. My dad lived for another 18 months after his miraculous recovery, thanks to Teresa and Bob and a cadre of home healthcare professionals.
Losing Teresa has been a profoundly painful experience for my entire family. Although I come from a larger family, Teresa’s untimely passing changed our family dynamics in consequential ways. It’s a hole that we will feel for the rest of our lives.
My dad and sister both possessed a strong faith in God, and they both valued helping others in their time of need. My hope and prayer is that they are together once again and reaping the rewards of living hopeful and faith-filled lives.