It is my birthday. I am 37 and on this day it’s raining. A misty, drizzly, cool wet that goes straightÂ to my bones as I walk Stella. Over my shoulder, I see the industrious, quiet exhaust of my sister’s trusty truck “Mighty Max” as it warms up for a long journey. It was on SarahKay’s birthday, a little over a month ago, that I first saw it. It made me smile then as it doesÂ now, but I marvel at the difference in why.
When Sarah Kay first showed up, there was an airÂ of panic on our part; our carefully orchestrated world had fallen apart with the sudden departure of our child care. Maggey’s work was ramping up, mine was carrying me out of the state every other week and the two most precious tyrants in our life were not about to demand less. Â And in swooped SarahKay, the perfect solution. So why was I anxious to see her truck for the first time?
Life on the Tumbling’O Ranch was only dry in its weather. We grew up chasing lizards, throwing dirt clods and watching the horizon for any hint of rain. I am the second in the lineup of five. When I left home, there were 3 (really 4 because Rebecca is more sister than cousin) little kids or budding teenagers in my wake. It grew increasingly difficult to keep track of how my family was doing as I tried to find my own way. Sure, there were the occasional family reunions, but those five stolen minutes of individual connection were never enough to truly dig out from under the years of ever thickening dust that tends to coats the relationships of our youth. Simply put, there was never enough time to chip away at who we were to get to who we are.
And then she was here.
When my brother Sam moved to the Midwest, we had exactly one altercation to define our working relationship. After one instance of trying to keep him from doing something I deemed idiotic, he turned to me and said these words:
Dude. You are my older brother. Not my bigger brother. Let’s keep it that way.
I will always remember that, and I had prepared to apply that life lesson to my sister who had swooped in on a warm southwestern wind. Even with that mental preparation, I could not help but be anxious. What would happen when weÂ had time to learnÂ who we had both become? So much had changed and neither one of us had ever gotten to truly explain where we were coming from. The thought of losing the mold of who we once were meant that we would never be able to put the dusty, youthful imagesÂ that we held of each otherÂ back together. Once you clean the patina of time, what you have left is all there is, for better or worse.
And then the time flew by.Â Bam!
Just like that, the wake of her travels is washing over me as she says her goodbyes to my children. TheyÂ adore her beyond their handful of words. Maggey and I sat silently last night dreading the bittersweet moment when the house would be bereft of her bizarre sounds. As I stand watching the cold rain cool the exhaust,Â I find that I am already missing the brave and shining woman who I have come to know. SarahKay is every bit the courageous, talented and loving gypsy that I had hoped she had become, and we were all blessed to have had a moment of her time. I smile because it is a fitting departure, and one that I hope will bring her back our way again.
The desert’s greatest gift is that of healing rain; and for my birthday, that is what I receive.