Prayers for Mary

So, yesterday I got a call from my oldest sister, Mary. On Friday she received news of a biopsy she had been waiting on. She has been diagnosed with breast cancer.

It was funny for her to call me. Even she noted the awkwardness and strangeness of the moment. As I mentioned before, we are not close. Other than our parents we have nothing in common. She is led by her logic and I by my emotions. She felt compelled to call all of her sisters to tell them of her diagnosis, to let them know of this increased familial risk of cancer.

It was an interesting experience for me. Why? Not in the way you might expect. You see - I've lived a lifetime of pain and illness. This has been my life. I've scarcely known a day of good health. No one in my family has ever understood the way I have suffered and endured and the way I have learned to view life and its unexpected ups and downs. I told my sister as much. It was an interesting experience for me because I was sad about the prospect of her having to suffer in the way I suffer every single day. Somehow I guess I thought I had managed to shoulder all of the pain and illness of the entire family. I know that sounds stupid. Yeah, of course it does. And why would I think such a stupid thing, especially for a sister I've never been close to?

Really funny - at the end of the conversation I told Mary I loved her. Her response was something like "Well, thanks for that." Don't you think that's odd? See, that's my family for you. Dandy, eh?

But she didn't call for my support. I'm not really sure why she called. She just needed to. I respect that she had that need, and I told her that I would be here for her, if she needed me. At times when I have been ill throughout my life, Mary has called to check in on me. She has been one of the only ones. Despite the fact that we don't understand one another she has kept track of me. She is a good woman in her way, and I respect her. We may not share a sisterly love, but we share something, and she did call. That's something, right?

I don't know. It isn't about me. This is all about her. It does bring up my unsettled feelings for her, feelings I just keep trying to push aside, because they will never be returned to my satisfaction. The truth is that I can't make people love me the way I love them. My own yearning leaves me feeling empty, and that is my own failing, I suppose. I can receive from others no more and no less than they are capable of giving.

So, for Mary, I offer my love and my prayers. I offer my understanding heart because I know the pain that comes from years of physical torment and the fears that accompany them. I have walked through their baptizing fire, and I can walk some distance with you, if you have need of me. I can be your friend, if you are seeking one. If you want me, I am here.