WHAT IF YOU MISUNDERSTOOD THE MOMENT THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING?

What if there was one moment between sisters that changed everything? A single instant that altered the course of your future. A moment that you perceived to be your greatest failure, a wrong that could never be righted. What if forty three years later you realized you were mistaken?

I was mistaken. I misunderstood. I got it totally wrong.

12:16 in the morning on October 24, 1973 was my moment. I awoke to my older sister, Tish, coughing. She was fifteen, almost two years older than me. She told me I didn’t need to wake Mom, to go back to sleep. She said everything was alright, that she would be fine. I slept while she died. My greatest failure, a mistake for which I could never atone. I let her go and made no effort to save her.

I built my vehicle to convey me through life with guilt as the drive shaft. For years every choice I made was the wrong choice with disastrous consequences. I believed I didn’t deserve anything better after what I had done. I kept the secret of my shame locked inside, hidden from family and friends. I begged God and my sister for forgiveness, then went running aimlessly down another dead end, because after all why should they?

The threads of guilt, regret, hope for atonement, and a desire to be as close to God as I was as a small child wove their way through the days of my young life. I gradually came to accept that God forgave me, loved me, and had plans for my future. I still didn’t understand how my sister could ever forgive me.

I hoped by telling my story, Barefoot on Broken Glass, I could shed some of the haunting pain with words. But guilt was still riding on my shoulders. I couldn’t shake it. Every time I tried, it grabbed fistfuls of hair and held on.

Until this year; forty three years after the moment that changed the world as I knew it. I went to Canada and met my sister again at a Jesuit retreat center in Toronto with the help of a special friend, Vienna. I know Tish was there, I could feel her. I felt like a child again, before I lost her. I was safe, loved, and happy.

She said that I did nothing wrong. I wasn’t supposed to save her. I was supposed to do exactly what I did, which was sleep. It happened quickly and easily; her lungs filled with fluid in a short time and she crossed over. She said she was happy and wanted to move into the beauty, light, and peace she saw waiting. Mary, the mother of Jesus, came for her with arms opened wide and she stepped willingly into them. Ever the loving big sister, she told me that she watched me swallow the whole ocean and struggle so hard after she left, and if she could have, she would have come back and traded places with me. My big sister loves me and is proud of me for making it through.

Finally I shed healing tears of joy! The weight of guilt is gone! I found my peace!

I think almost every child has built a fort by draping sheets or blankets over the dining room table or between couch and chairs to make a dark, private place for reading, playing, or just letting the imagination run wild. I built my fort a long time ago and crawled inside with my guilt and shame. After all these years, suddenly my sister pulled back the flap and let the light flood inside.

I know now that I was mistaken all those years ago. What I thought was my greatest failure was intended to be an incredible blessing for me. It was one final moment between sisters. I was the last person to see or speak to her. It was a time for Tish, the big sister, to tell me, the little sister, that I could sleep and not worry. That everything was alright and she was going to be fine.

She has been fine all this time and now I am fine too. I can enjoy my memories of her and embrace the love we still share.

God’s timing is always impeccable. Before I wrote Barefoot on Broken Glass and exposed all my secrets to the light, to the scrutiny of those I love, I wasn’t ready to accept an alternative explanation. Now I am, and I do. My life would have been very different if I hadn’t gotten that night so confused, but every choice, movement, emotion, led me to the person I am now. And I like myself; even more so after my trip to Canada.