Life is more than our recent disappointment

A dream brings my sister close

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I dreamed Tuesday night about my sister Kim, who died in a fall from a balcony in 1990, when she was 27.

She was sitting on a couch in the dream. I hugged her and didn’t want to let go, soaking in the feeling of happiness in her presence, and she looked at me quizzically, as if to say, “What’s going on?”

I’ve been working on a memoir, getting up early in the mornings to plumb my memories, and it brings the past closer to the surface, which I’m thankful for. Being near Kim in a dream is as close as I can get to her now.

Of four children in our family, I was the first and Kim was next, just shy of two years younger. Then it was her and me for almost two years, until Erin was born, then Mike a year and a half after that.

I looked online at her obituary in the Adirondack Daily Enterprise to get the dates right and was surprised by how bland it was, but that’s the way obituaries used to be. They were free, and newspapers had rules about what could be included and what couldn’t, to keep them short and factual and to avoid disputes among family members.

In the general decline of community newspapers over the past 30 years, that is one thing that has improved. Families have to pay for obituaries now, but they get to write them, and so they are full of love and sorrow and humor and even, sometimes, anger.

I go weeks without a specific thought about Kim, but the memory of her and my sadness over her loss are always part of my consciousness.

When she died, I felt alienated from my own body. I wanted a pause in which all other needs and desires disappeared, so we could only grieve, nothing else.

But time and life continue, regardless.

Politics seems a trivial reference here, but the election put me in a reflective mood, wanting to dwell on something besides what is unfolding politically and culturally in our country. 

As Ken recently said in his column, Kamala Harris voters tended to be more politically engaged than Donald Trump voters, so the election was a heavy blow for us — not primarily because of disappointment our candidate lost but because of fear of what Trump will do.

I disagree with those who have downplayed the dangers of this autocrat wannabe — disagree about what he is and may become and the extent of the damage he can do.

I’m appalled that millions of Americans have embraced this sleazy schemer and disgusted that journalists have persistently normalized his destructive character.

But, still, we all have other, more important things in our lives, love and fun and community and struggle and sadness.

A neighbor came over this week with his blower to help me get into the road the enormous load of leaves that fell from trees across the street and gathered in banks against my chainlink fence.

He knew I was up against a deadline, because the city’s open pickup of lawn waste ends in a few days, and he knew, because I am the caregiver for my wife, who has Alzheimer’s, that finding the time for lawn work is a challenge.

I prefer rakes to leaf blowers, but I was happy for his help. We chatted about things as we stood near the fence — such as his very well-behaved dog — but not politics. I don’t know how he voted, and I don’t want to know.

Politics is important, but we have deeper currents in our lives. For all the space Donald Trump takes up in my mind, I’ve never dreamed about him. God willing, I never will.

This is a photo of Kim that hangs on the wall next to our stairs.