Siblings

Back in February, my little friends, Marlea, 5, and Anna, 14 months, lost their sister, Kira, 3, to a sudden illness. Marlea, the big sister, has been lost without her playmate and Anna, has found herself in a new roll as "the second child." I was priviledged to watch these three girls play together, interact, develop rolls and responsibilities toward each other and to others. They were quite the trio, each seemingly incomplete without the other. Now that Kira is in heaven, the girls do feel incomplete. Are they now 2 sisters or still part of that trio? Do they play differently because Kira is not there or do they keep their ways? Will they act and develop differently toward the world because Kira is not there to learn from?

I know I learned so much from being a little sister with a big brother and it plays (present tense) a huge roll in who I am. While Mike and I no longer "played" together like we did when we were kids, we played off of each other in the rolls we learned growing up together. I hurt for my little friends as they seek to become new people without their sister.

I don't want a new roll in life without my brother. I don't want Marlea and Anna to be without Kira. I liked so much who we all were when we were complete.

Shortly after Mike died, I had a sudden, vivd image of him grabbing up Kira and holding her up high in the air, over his head. The pair were laughing with thier big grins, in total delight of one another. They never had the chance to meet here. They are playing together in heaven.

I don't like them not being here. I am glad they have each other up there.

I don't mind that new roll, so much. I get to share my big brother with that little girl. I hope, someday, the girls left behind, will find comfort in that thought.

Reflections

So, after 2 months, I was finally able to view the picture video created to play during Mike's visitation in April. Needless to say, I shed a lot of tears. I have always had a difficult time with photos. Even throughout my wonderful travels, I have been unable and uncommitted to taking numerous pictures. I recently came to the conclusion that pictures do not do memories justice. There is just no way to re-create the real thing on a flat piece of paper.

One day, also recently, I saw my face in the mirror. A new face. A different face. One I have not been familiar with. One with the shadow of my brother. One that can't get passed the nose on the end of my own face long enough to see the blessings I have been missing. I have only seen lost, sad, and hurt.

Dad was born at Duke Hospital in 1945. He was given the name "Baby Ronald" by the staff, as he was put up for adoption. Later, when he was adopted, he was named Michael Ronald Watson.
My brother is Michael Ronald Watson, Jr. My name is Rhonda Michelle Watson Wright. Mike and I were both named for our Dad. As I have seen my reflection in the mirror, not for vanity mind you, I have seen the face of generations, memories and the real thing. I am part of my brother, my family. I am the past, present, and future. I want Mike to be in our present but all I have seen in the mirror is the lack of his presence in my life. My face is sad and downtrodden. I have missed the blessing of how much of a part of my life he really is. He is my brother...my brother! What a bond! He is a God-given gift! I have missed so much of that over the past 2 months simply by not sharing his memories. Don't misread me...these memories are painful because they are not remotely as good as the real thing. But they are what I have. I have part of him.
I see him in Mom, in Dad, in Hunter, and even Laura. They say the longer a couple is together the more alike they look. Maybe it's just that they look so much like the two have become one as God intended. I don't fully understand His plan because now Laura does not have Mike, nor do we. Can you tell I am confused, hurt, broken, searching?
Fortunately, each day brings new answers and reassurance, though one day is not always better than the one before.
It is so complicated yet so simple.
I hope as I look in the mirror, I see God's grace for each day and His blessing to remember and relish in my brother's memory and life. As I look in the mirror each day, I hope to see the pilgrimage, not the pain, though one does not seem possible without the other. I hope I see who I am becoming, not who I was. I want to see Mike. I want to see the face lift given by a spirit-filled life.
Lord, hear me. Help me. Bless all who take the time to read this and reflect on Mike and our family. Bless their own families' and needs. You know their hurts, their praise, their desires. Lord, use these words to help them reflect on you as they look in the mirror. Use Mike's life through us, as a ministry to those that need to hear these words from the real, broken-hearted, loving, questioning, hurt and frustrated Christians. Lord, even if they do not know you, speak to their hearts. This is my prayer. This is the godly reflection I want.
Love,
Rhonda

There is an episode of M*A*S*H where the psychiatrist, Sydney Freidman, is analyzing the character, Hawkeye. For those of you that know M*A*S*H, you will understand a little more. For those who don't, just bear with me. The psychiatrist says that "anger turned inward is depression. Anger turned sideways, is Hawkeye."
You may have noticed that I have not posted in a while. I finally realized why. June 3 we celebrated Hunter's 11th birthday at his house. Mike was not there. I was angry. There was a turtle that did not make it across the road. I was angry. Thers is another idiot being pain millions of dollars for pouty lips and so-called talent. I am angry. I have to go to work and hold in all my emotions to take care of people, just to have my days off ruined because that is when I have to deal with my emotions. That makes me angry. I am angry. That makes me angrier. Anger is not an easy emotion to express and not hurt someone or something or to come out smelling like a rose.

Mike dealt with a lot during his life. He was passionate about a lot more than most people know. A lot of things angered him. But he was rarely depressed or sad, even when dealing with ongoing illnesses. He was rebellious, rouge, and somewhat of a maverick at times. He turned his anger sideways. I, on the other hand, turn my anger inward. I have allowed no outlet.

If you will recall, a lot of the things Hawkeye did was rebellious against everything the Army tried to make him do. Most of the time his rebellion helped someone or at least taught him a valuable lesson. I am not suggesting that we or I go out and rebel against the world and all its brokenness. But I do think it is ok to go against the grain, sometimes, to keep from going crazy. I think that is also what Jesus obediently did :)

Mike liked to get sideways. He did not like to get angry. He was too busy enjoying life to do that.
I, on the other hand, am angry. I don't like to get sideways because then I think I am not in control. But as I write this, I realize I am not in control...the anger is. It is defining me right now. It is depressing me. Mike would tell me I need to get over myself. Hawkeye would pull a prank or expose some awful truth, even if it had a not-so-happy ending.

I like Hawkeye's character a lot. He is a lot like I would like to be, sometimes. But he is just a character. Mike, on the other hand, IS my brother and always will be. I don't want to be angry and depressed. I want to get a little bit sideways.