They grew
up in the same home, with loving parents and the same DNA. Yet the two sisters couldn't have been more
different.
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| "Sisters and a book" Iman Maleki |
There
were lots of warm memories from their childhood and school days. Young adulthood took them in entirely
different directions. "Leah"
tried her hand at college but was much more interested in getting married and
starting a family. "Rachel"
found college academics exciting. Her
excellence at higher education would open many doors including a professional
career with significant social responsibility.
She didn't have time for marriage and a family.
It was in
"Leah's" first marriage that her addiction to alcohol began. Her husband turned out to be a mean drunk
himself. The relationship didn't last
long. The second marriage was to a much
older man who didn't mind "Leah's" drinking as long has she provided
for the home. When he died of a heart
attack a few years into the relationship "Leah" hardly noticed. There would be other "common law"
relationships along the way of "Leah's" journey but drinking was her
first love in life.
"Rachel"
would reach out to "Leah" as time allowed. "Rachel" was the dutiful
daughter. As her parents aged, faced
illness and eventually died, it was "Rachel" who was consistently a
caring presence in their lives. In spite
of "Rachel's" overtures to her sister, "Leah's" lifestyle
was not conducive to caring for her aging parents. Her shame kept her away from even rudimentary
participation in holidays or family events.
Jealousy drove a wedge between her and “Rachel”. Communication
between the two sisters became increasing painful, angry and
recriminating.
One
Christmas Sunday, "Rachel" had an overwhelming premonition to phone
"Leah" who, by now in her 70's, was living alone in a flop-house
motel. She survived on Social Security
and the remainder of her portion of the family inheritance, most of which had
disappeared in her hoarding habit. To
distract the check-out clerks at Wal-Mart, K-Mart and Safeway from her
addiction, she would purchase “stuff” in addition to her drink of choice. She had managed to fill up a number of storage
sheds with never-opened merchandise. In
the course of a day, such service employees and the couple that ran the
run-down motel were the only people with whom she spoke.
After her
repeated calls to "Leah" went unanswered, and frustrated by the
indifference of the motel managers, "Rachel" called 911 requesting a
welfare check on her sister. The
paramedics found "Leah" on the floor of the motel, unconscious but
alive. She would die of massive liver
failure a week later on New Year's Eve.
She had drunk herself to death.
But that
is not all that happened in her last week.
"Leah"
was cared for by a compassionate hospital staff that did everything they could
to keep her comfortable. Unlike her
existence in the cockroach-infested motel, "Leah" was clean and
fed. The sister whom she had cussed out
over the phone in their last conversation months before stayed by her bedside,
oversaw her care directives, cleaned up the mess at the motel and made
arrangements to dispose of the accumulation in the storage units.
When
"Leah" reached out to hold "Rachel's" hand, she took it and
would not let it go until "Leah's" last breath. No words were spoken. "Leah's" deteriorating condition
would not allow her to speak. But the
compassionate gesture of holding hands was all that needed to be said. Two sisters with a common bond, a lifetime of
wounds and disappointments, simply shared their last hours in this life
together.
"Leah's"
life of isolation and shame ended with a small measure of dignity. Her last week would never resolve the
accumulation of pain. Yet she was not
alone at the end. And there was a moment
of reconciliation between two sisters.
Now "Rachel" can let her go in the hope that in the next life
"Leah" will find the peace she never found in this one.