Good news and a long overdue explanation

Sister is doing fine. She’s back home from the hospital and going in to work for a couple of hours. She was quite anemic and they gave her a transfusion while she was in the hospital, getting her blood type in the process.

She is O-negative, as am I. She came to the same delirious conclusion that I did when I was hospitalized and needed transfusion. How can to O-positive parents have an O-negative child. I went so far as to ask my mother if there was anything she wanted to tell me about my real father.

My sister’s hematologist explained it to her and I looked it up myself. Apparently it’s quite easy for O-negative children to come from O-positive parents. A simple explanation here.

It was more dramatic to think that our parents might not be our parents, but then I’ve never been a big fan of drama.


The thing about this years family vacation is that everywhere, every moment I look, I’m seeing my parent’s mortality.  Both of them tired terribly on this trip.  And my sister’s illness immediately after helped not at all.

They both seemed so tired when I saw them in my sister’s hospital room.

They’ve done so much for all of us.  All three of us sisters have had our trials and they’ve always been there, each in their own way.

When I was sick, Mom came to the hospital every day.  Every day.  40 days in a row.  Doesn’t seem like much?  Try it sometime.

After I got home, Dad stayed with me.  He kept track of my medications, checking each one of, seven or eight of them, four times a day.  On a spreadsheet.  One that he made on graph paper by hand, without a computer.

They’ve done the same for all of us.  Each as we’ve needed it, and, oh, we’ve needed it.

I don’t know how to go on without them.  I certainly don’t want to go on without them, though I know I will.  It will be difficult.

But not impossible.  I’m lucky.  I get to carry that seed of love and caring inside me.  No matter what happens to me, now and ever, I’ve had my family.

Kite Flyer

When we arrived these folks were flying a kite on the beach. Note to self, pack a kite.

The smaller one is Sam, one of the most articulate 3-year-olds I’ve ever heard. We met strolling down the beach. As his mother looked on he said hello, told me he’d been fishing, he’d caught six fish that day, that it was a pleasure to meet me and that he hoped to meet me again. I was mightily impressed with his social skills.

A first

On our first morning at the beach house I got to see a first.  My first bald eagle.  Two actually.  It caused quite a stir in the family when they first appeared.  The people next door were quite blase about it. 

They would come to the pier every morning and hunt fish, resting on the broken pilings to eat when they were successful.

There were quite a few bald eagles on the island.  There was a nest on a telephone pole that had cell phone panels.  And we saw them in several places.

It made me happy to see them.  I still remember the DDT years, when there were very few raptors.  At least we can do some things right when we try.