I woke up to the sweet cry of Sophie. She won't come into my bedroom to sleep on my bed yet she'll curl up with me and sniff my eyelids or just raise her head to look into my eyes. She's not the most beautiful specimen, she's not a purebred, she's not a cat I even knew until, my sister collapsed in a shopping mall buying Christmas gifts for her family. She brought us together a year ago.
Sophie lived with my sister and her brother cat, Sebastian, in an old apartment building which, in it's day, hosted Hollywood Stars and people with prominent names. It was my sister's home for many years. She lived alone, well, not completely as she always had her cats, 'or her kids' as she called them.
It was a year ago I received that horrible call from my co-worker, 'Your mother wants you to call home, it's an emergency'. I knew it was my father. My parents are at the age where you dread the 'call'. But, when I called, it was to be my sister, Lynsey, who mysteriously collapsed while doing her favorite thing at her favorite time of the year. She is the embodiment of Christmas cheer.
I don't remember the drive to the hospital in the rain. I don't remember going up the elevator and quietly praying, 'be all right, be all right'. I didn't feel the weight of the world on my shoulders as I was so alone, so unsure of doing the right thing...whatever that was?
I ran to people in uniform who I didn't know but expected answers from. They just sent me to more elevators and other floors. Where was she? Was she awake? Did she fall? It'll be all right. Of course, it will all be all right.
My parents were to come later as they lived further away. I worried about them driving in such bad weather.
And then I met a young nurse. She must have been in training as she only looked about 19 years of age. What would she know about 'things like this'. She told me my sister was in surgery. SURGERY? How could that be..she fell. The young nurse showed me to a room with a television and magazines. She said it may take a long time, she was bleeding, hemorrhaging in her brain. I think I gasped..I don't know. I just felt numb. Why? Why would she be suffering. Not Lynsey? She was our Christmas girl, she made us laugh and forced us to play her joyous games with tambourines and hand-clappers. She was Christmas.
I waited. A nurse asked if I would go through her purse to see if she was on any medication. Was she? We spoke often and she came to my home for dinner about every 6 weeks. I knew work was not good and she was 'more emotional' than usual, but she wasn't sick..was she? Had I missed something? I should know ... I am HER BROTHER..I should know.
My parents arrived as confused as I was. My older sister was also there for support. I was relieved to see her. I needed my family with me.
In the purse I found the most bizarre things... from 'survival supplies' to bottles of strong pain killers, Tylenol 3 and more. I gave them to the nurse. She asked me if my sister had been 'different' lately. I told her no..then, I said yes. She had been different. Was this why she was now in surgery. Had her brain been compromised with mixed signals? She had recently gone to Church...she never had before. She had been calling us to tell us she loved us. We knew she loved us but she left messages and ended each call with 'I love you very much'... why? Did she know something. I felt very alone with a building full of kind people.
Hours went by. My father escaped through a hockey game on the television and my sister kept getting updates from the nurses. My mother just looked frightened. I don't know what I looked like, but I knew I was so tired.
The gurney was pushed through the doors and there she was. Her jaw was slack and tubes were shoved down her throat. Bandages wrapped around her head and her belongings in my care... to do what? To take home and wash her clothes and protect her personal belongings.
I remembered her cats. Who would feed the cats? I left to go home and call her dearest friends. It felt so wrong to share this kind of news. This is not the call you make to young friends. After this, I went to her home. It was a maze of her life. From spoon collections to puzzles in frames, ceramic dolls and pictures of family. Then I heard it, the timid 'meow' coming from the bedroom. One of the cats was calling out.
Weeks went by, my sister seemed to be getting better until they discovered a huge tumor. It was cancerous. She only lived two months. I had driven back and forth over the bridge that separated our two homes, to be with her every chance I could and to make sure the cats were cared for. It was on a day when I had read about my sister's personal suffering. She had left a written note in the clutter on her desk...'the headaches, the screaming headaches'...when her female cat, Sophie jumped on my lap and purred so loudly I though her little heart would fall onto my lap.
I stroked her gently , then I lifted her small frame to my face and cried into her fur. She just allowed it. I knew she was so loved by my sister and I thought that maybe her love could make it better...a silly notion but I had nothing left but silly notions and magical cures. I just held Sophie and rocked with her. I don't know how long I did this. Then, I drove over that bridge for the 48th time.
Lynsey died exactly two months after she collapsed. She had gone to our last Christmas. She had been elegant, charming and thoughtful, as always. But now, she was gone. Sophie came with me to my house. The brother cat had hid most of the time and was taken elsewhere. Sophie is on my lap now as I type this. She looks at me as if she knows why I am sad, why I am hurting. She is the piece of my sister that comforts me. Yes, I have my memories, yes I have my photos, yes I have the sound of my sister laughing and talking about how wonderful Christmas is...and it is. I play her music, the old albums with White Christmas and I'll Be Home for Christmas...but best of all, I have Sophie..the warm body of the cat she loved and now loves me.
Life is a journey, life is fleeting. This will be a very hard Christmas for my family but, when I am hurting in my heart I can hold Sophie and know that my sister was about LOVE.
I woke up to the sweet cry of Sophie. She won't come into my bedroom to sleep on my bed yet she'll curl up with me and sniff my eyelids or just raise her head to look into my eyes. She's not the most beautiful specimen, she's not a purebred, she's not a cat I even knew until, my sister collapsed in a shopping mall buying Christmas gifts for her family. She brought us together a year ago.
It was a year ago I received that horrible call from my co-worker, 'Your mother wants you to call home, it's an emergency'. I knew it was my father. My parents are at the age where you dread the 'call'. But, when I called, it was to be my sister, Lynsey, who mysteriously collapsed while doing her favorite thing at her favorite time of the year. She is the embodiment of Christmas cheer.
My parents were to come later as they lived further away. I worried about them driving in such bad weather. 
And then I met a young nurse. She must have been in training as she only looked about 19 years of age. What would she know about 'things like this'. She told me my sister was in surgery. SURGERY? How could that be..she fell. The young nurse showed me to a room with a television and magazines. She said it may take a long time, she was bleeding, hemorrhaging in her brain. I think I gasped..I don't know. I just felt numb. Why? Why would she be suffering. Not Lynsey? She was our Christmas girl, she made us laugh and forced us to play her joyous games with tambourines and hand-clappers. She was Christmas.
Hours went by. My father escaped through a hockey game on the television and my sister kept getting updates from the nurses. My mother just looked frightened. I don't know what I looked like, but I knew I was so tired.
Life is a journey, life is fleeting. This will be a very hard Christmas for my family but, when I am hurting in my heart I can hold Sophie and know that my sister was about LOVE.
