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Seems life has a funny way of bringing up the past when you least expect it and then allowing you to stew in for a while. I found myself at Ochsner Hospital this past week, November 2nd, to be exact. I was there due to an abnormality on my mammogram the previous week. The doctor had ordered additional pictures and an ultrasound to determine if we had something to be concerned about.

I mention the date, November 2nd because it was exactly one year to the day that one of my younger sisters died of breast cancer. To say it was a little daunting is an understatement. I sat in the waiting room, lost in my thoughts, her on my mind, wondering what the outcome of the additional scans would show.

We had been close off and on through the years, but at the time of her death, we were estranged. She had been going through a rough time several years ago, and I guess as some people do, they blame others for their misfortunes and so it was it with her. She told me I was no longer her sister, but she never stopped being mine and I always had hope that she would heal from her anger and we would again at least be friendly. That chance ended.

It saddens me to think of the years that her anger kept us from being sisters. Our parents were aging and the combined support of siblings was needed. Instead, it was fractured far more deeply than I understood at the time.

The last time she spoke to me, she had her argument concrete in her head and there was no persuading her to listen to reason or truth. She couldn’t understand that I was different. My truths were different. My life was different. I did not think the same way she did. And, as with each individual person, what we go through during our lifetime, it makes us who we are and how we see the world, and how we react to the world. We also see forgiveness in a different light. Her idea of forgiveness was to forgive and then sit right back down at the table. At that point, my idea of forgiveness had progressed to forgiving, but walking away from the table. She wasn’t capable of understanding or merely accepting I had to do what I needed to do.

We need to understand we do not walk in another’s shoes and we need to respect their decisions.

It seems as though some families are doomed to division while others manage to escape the drama and live a happy co-existence. Our family was not so lucky. Due to a lifetime of abuse, lies, and betrayal, beginning with my mother and ending with my youngest sister,  I walked away several years ago from the toxic, for my own emotional stability. Since then, I’ve not only realized it was the right decision, I’ve discovered just how deep the betrayal was and has continued to be.