When it’s time to put family first

Aweek ago my big sister was at the Madi Cup rowing to see her championship-winning grandson hopefully take another title.

But she didn’t get to see any rowing — she was too exhausted to leave her accommodation. It broke her heart and she knew something was wrong. It just wasn’t being “a little bit anemic” as her doctor had been telling her for months. On Tuesday her doctor told her to pack her bags and go to hospital. Then came the dreadful news no-one wants to hear.

Tests showed she has end- stage leukemia and for an extra kick in the guts, a cancerous growth alongside her lung. The prognosis? Possibly months, probably weeks. She decided she didn’t want to go through chemotherapy and she turned down surgery for the cancerous growth. She wants the time she has left to be on her terms.

But why she asked me, was it her? She eats chicken and fish, fruit and veges and has never smoked. Okay, she enjoys an occasional wine and at her age why not?

Why hadn’t her doctor ordered any blood tests in the last two years, especially considering she’s been in and out of hospital after a white-tail spider bite on her leg caused all sorts of problems previously?

Those questions will probably never be answered.

But this gut-wrenching blow to my favourite sister is almost too hard to bear. She’s been through so much. Her oldest son tragically died on the eve of his 21st birthday when, in a huge storm in south Westland, the car he was driving plunged into a river, when the approach had been scoured out beneath. His two passengers escaped but my nephew was trapped when the fast flowing river tangled his seat belt around his leg. He drowned. My big sister then had to face the loss of her beloved husband just when they were about to enjoy their retirement. He had given his company an extra two years and on the day he retired he was diagnosed with terminal bowel cancer.

Their plans of a life on their boat in the Marlborough Sounds with family and friends was gone.

After the white-tail spider bite, she decided to sell up and move to Christchurch to be near family and dear friends. Then along came two earthquakes, the second on February 2011 saw her retirement villa damaged and needing repair.

I told my sister this shouldn’t be happening to her, she’s a good person. This week she cynically said, “I can’t have been that good.”

But she has. Family members have suggested to me that when she goes I’ll have to take her place as the family matriarch. Both our parents didn’t make very old bones and I’m rapidly coming to the age we lost them, but my big sister has well and truly outrun that legacy.

But no, I won’t be the family matriarch because no one could replace my sister, she’s amazing. She has knitted beautiful garments for every baby which has arrived in our extended family and beyond. I can’t knit. She took up the mantle of Christmas cake maker for my younger sister when mum died. I have trouble getting my own cake in the oven. But most importantly, she has time. Time for family and friends and anyone who needs her. Recently she travelled to Waiheke Island to make contact with a former brother-in-law she hadn’t seen in years. She was tired, but determined to see him again.

No, she said she didn’t have any premonition of something not right in her life, but she knew she wasn’t feeling her best. After all, she’d been told she was “a bit anemic.”

A few years ago she gave me a big lecture about always keeping in touch and not getting too busy and miss family moments. Sage advice. As she said, “we’re family and all we’ve got is each other”.

I’ve taken notice, especially lately and you may not see me at every event.

I’m putting family first as much as I can.