Karen Jean

Flying into Tampa yesterday morning was unexpected.  It came with a heavy, heavy feeling.  

My older sister, Karen was put into intensive care, late Wednesday night.  She lives in Tampa and she’s only known about her cancer for two months.

Mom and I were flying in to be at the hospital.  We didn’t know if she would make it through her crisis or not.  I knew Mom needed to get there to be with her.  Mom was optomistic about the outcome, but didn’t want to wait any longer to go see her.

Wednesday night,(the night before our trip, here, to Tampa), Mom and I went to Clyde’s Drive-In for a bison burger.   Before we left the house to eat, Kathy called and told us about rushing Karen to emergency.  She said she was getting badly needed fluids and was just tired. 

We love to take out bison burgers “To Go” and park somewhere to enjoy the lake and eat them with pleasure (we both say, “Mmmmm, Mmmmm”, as we sit in the car and eat).  

Wednesday to enjoy our Clyde’s Burgers, we decided to go down by the Marina to park and eat and saw huge clouds rolling through.

Rain Storms OVer Mackinac Island

Spar From Marina Against the Clouds

Storm Showing Over Rabbit's Back

Picture Facing Downtown St. Ignace

I saw a rainbow, but by the time I got my camera out to take a picture, it was gone.  The wind was blowing so cold.  The clouds were sliding past as fast as I could take pictures of the stunning formations they were creating. 

Mom stayed in the car, I’m sure wondering, “Isn’t she cold out there?”  while she had her butt warmer on and the heat blowing on her at seventy-five degrees.

After I got back into the car, Mom said, “Let’s just drive through town, before we go home”.  She knew the minute we step into the house we’d have no distrastions from our worries about Karen.  We were expecting a call from Kathy to see how Karen was doing.  When we drove through town we saw another rainbow.  This time not in an arch, but in huge flames of color, starting from the Straits of Mackinac.

I Drove Further Up the Road to Get the Rainbow Behind the Lighthouse

We were in awe of the beauty.  I told Mom I hoped it was a sign of good luck for Karen.

At Dusk We Pulled Away
and Saw the Dusk Pink and Reds on the Bluff 

When we got back from our bison-burger-dinner we got a call from Kathy  She told us Karen wasn’t doing well and was put in the ICU unit. 

The solar eclipse, the full moon, the rainbows, the stream of storms riding over the islands and Lake Huron.  Bellowing for attention in their beauty and blackness.  And at the same time?  Karen and Kathy together in ICU fighting.  None of these events could I truly fathom.  It shook the predictable, right out from under me.

Mother Nature has nothing on the power of getting hitting in the heart by the loss of Karen.  She died a few hours after Mom and I arrived in Tampa and got to the hospital to be with her.  Waves of fear, sadness and disbelief hit with such unimaginable force.  

Now I sit upstairs in her home.  Getting this blog ready to post.  I can hear voices downstairs.  Some family looking at pictures, some telling stories, others cleaning up after we ate a dinner brought over by a close friend of Karen’s.

Karen Jean.  Your life here on earth is gone.  But, if you could hear Mom, your children, your brothers and sisters and your friends talk about you, you’d be smiling, with tears of joy in your eyes.  And maybe you are listening.  

Maybe you are watching a sister pick up a shell on your counter and hold it.  Maybe you saw someone read the picture you got at the Mardi Gras. I hope you hear so many people say, “She was so sweet”.  You'd like that.   And it's true.

One of Karen's Shell Collections

Picture She Got at a Mardi Gras

Please, could you maybe whisper in our ears tonight, “It’s okay. I'm okay.  I love you”?  Could you be our Sandman and help us sleep, knowing you’re at peace and we can be too?

Thanks for being courageous, optomistic and fearless in fighting the cancer beast.  You are a good teacher.  I love you.