Take the Trip, Do the Thing, The Cliches are all True.
‘Take the trip, do the thing and remember the cliches are all true’ Those were the words of wisdom that my sister imparted on us as she prepared to leave this world last fall. Wanting to honour her on this my first big milestone without her, I am going to share some lessons I learned through the process of caring for and losing my oldest, dearest friend and sister. I decided that 78 Cups is the perfect place.
When we first started this blog - 78cups (of Tea) - we wanted to encourage people to have the conversations that we so often don’t get the chance to have. The blog was in celebration of our Mom and quickly became a vehicle for us to share our memories and remember the wonderful people in our lives. It also led to so many wonderful conversations without limits that forced us to be honest with our past, our memories, and ourselves. Continuing the mission of the blog, I will be posting the final installments of the 78 Cups over the coming months. I want to talk about the messy stuff that I experienced through Deb’s illness as well as the powerfully wonderful things that came from Deb’s illness.
Deb was given time to prepare all of us for her passing. She showed such strength in that process. Her ability to remain positive and present even throughout all the pain she was experiencing was remarkable. Her doctors marveled at how remarkable it was that she was able to show such positivity and strength. We joked that she was the only person I knew ever clinically diagnosed with being remarkable.
If you knew Deb at all, you knew she was always up for an adventure. Whether that was taking the trip to another country, celebrating a special occasion with friends, or having a quiet weekend by the water, she has an insatiable desire to experience life to the fullest. She would buy the shoes and the nice coat. She always made time to make her surroundings beautiful.
She would talk about how important it was to do the things that you wanted because in the end, you cannot take the money, the accolades, or the titles with you. This was not clearer than Deb’s final day in her home. The ambulance attendants came to take her to Hospice. They helped her to the wheelchair. She did it with a smile. As she was lowered down the three flights of stairs, leaving everything she owned behind, she said “I will just close my eyes and trust to have me”.
Once on the ground floor in the garage, she gave one look around, her eyes landing on her collection of hiking gear. Her eyes whelmed up and she looked at me and said, “I will be ok”. Deb understood that you cannot always control what is happening to you but you can choose how you will react to it. There she was almost 52 years' worth of belongings and all she took to the Hospice was pictures of the people and places that she loved.
So, as I start my year of 50, I will be taking her advice and living with more intentionality. I will be doing the things, taking the trips (literally Bahamas and New Zealand, here I come) and paying attention to all the cliches. As I embrace this journey of healing, I hope you will join me. For one of the greatest joys to have come from all the pain over the past 18 months is the people that have shown me what true friendship is and what a great gift it is to be loved.