20. Someone I love

Tomorrow is the fifth anniversary of my sister's surgery for stomach cancer. The surgeons removed her entire stomach and attached her intestines directly to her esophagus. Her prognosis was grim, and five-year survival rates are low.  But Jane is a walking miracle. Even though we always feel like the time bomb is ticking -- when will it come back? where? how bad? -- her follow-up scans for the last 5 years have remained unchanged.  Her blood count remains high, but she's OKAY!

Jane made this needlepoint sampler for me in 1978, when I was getting ready to go to school in Chicago. She'd lived there for a year, and she told me that I would need something cheerful and bright to get me through the long, cold, gray winter. She's my big sister (7 years older than I), and she's always looked out for me, tried to protect me, take care of me, and make things better for me.

This needlework was a labor of love, and it has always shouted out the best part of my relationship with Jane, the happiness and brightness and closeness. Thirty-four years later, it still hangs on my wall, bringing a smile to my face every time I walk by it.

I love my sister with my whole heart, and I am so grateful that she is still here for me to tell her so.