In memory of My Sister

My Sister
A Warrior Soul

My sister was a beautiful soul.

My baby sister had the heart of an Amazon warrior woman who was more than willing to engage her rage to set someone straight. You could knock her down but you couldn’t keep her down. She would rise like a Fury in fairy tales and could hold her own against any man.

From what I have seen and heard, Rhonda Rousey had nothing on her and would have probably had a hard time taking my sister down. Over the years it appeared that the everlasting effects of abuse had generated an unquenchable raging fire inside of her. A fire that compelled her to stand up, speak out or pull you across the kitchen table and beat the living pulp out of you with a fervor unmatched by many.

My sister wasn’t rich by worldly standards, yet her abundance held more value than what the world banks could ever hold. My sister was ‘enriched’ beyond measure with a more lasting treasure that included all of the things that money can NEVER buy.

My sister was a woman who would give you the shirt off her back and her very last dime. Her door was open to those in need. She was a woman who had no need or use for greed. She was a woman who held a deep abiding faith, even during the toughest of times. She would tell me that there was always that inner whisper of knowing, that no matter what, everything would be fine.

My sister was a compassionate soul that was mirrored by her being a caretaker of many who was not her own. “I keep taking in strays!” she would say, “I can’t help it.” Young ones who had nothing or nowhere to go tugged at her heartstrings. There were even some who were visiting and instead found themselves a place in her heart and her home.

My sister loved her children and her grandchildren to the very depths of her soul. She gave each of them what she could with what she had. Her words were not always well-chosen, nor her actions always a choice made consciously, but she ALWAYS did the best she could at any given moment in time.

Her children and grandchildren were the true points of light in her life. Each one of them will carry some of her traits, characteristics, talents, gifts and many memories that will sustain them as they move forward forging a path of their own.

The hardships they all endured will give them a depth of strength to overcome any adversity they may have to face in the years to come. They have been nourished with a special cup of wisdom that supersedes the wisdom of this world. They will have to fend for themselves now, but they have all the tools and knowledge they need to make their own way in this world and to make the world a much better place to be in.

I know my sister will still be there when they need her the most. She will continue to fight for them on the other side. They too have the backbone, the willpower, and that fighting spirit inside of them.

I wasn’t able to spend much time with my sister through the years, but I came to know and understand her more deeply than others really knew. All my brothers and sisters were affected by the abuse we all received and my baby sister carried additional battle scars of her own. The unresolved, deep-seated wounds that remained unhealed in her heart and mind turned cancerous over time.

My sister passed away from brain cancer on May 30th, 2019. Her body was riddled with cancer after her second brain surgery. After this last surgery, we were informed that her cancer had spread to her lungs, chest and was deeply embedded in her left hip joint.

My family was told that recent tests revealed that the cancer in her hip socket had turned to gangrene, and that the doctors wanted to take her leg, shortly after the brain surgery was done. My sister refused. She was tired, she had had enough and was ready to go home.

My sister’s celebration of life services was held on her birthday June 5th and she was laid to rest the next day. She is home now with her daughter Jennifer, our mother, and my oldest brother. She is no longer suffering and in pain…and for that I am grateful. She will always hold a very special place in my heart, my mind and my soul. I will miss her presence. Her death touched me deeply. Perhaps I will share that in my book.

Through all of this I have seen and learned that the pattern of abuse is handed down from one generation to the next. My family alone has given birth to what is now the 3rd generation of children that may still be affected by the abuse their parents recieved in their childhood because their parents have yet to heal their own wounds. I have even seen snippets of it in my own children as they begin to raise their own. I see much more in some of my nieces, nephews and their own children.

I have learned that the effects of abuse are not only far-reaching, but I have also seen how it destroys lives and how it is now destroying the Gift of Life itself. I can also see how it has easily expanded to become a global entity in our world.

When I look outward and reflect on what I have learned, I realize that there is not a soul on this planet that has not experienced abuse in some form. It weighs on my heart to see such beauty scarred in this Garden of Eden. We never truly left it you know. Earth is our heavenly home and even she has not been left unscathed by the abuses wrought upon our environment from human thinking, human greed and dismissive human deeds.

Those of us who have survived the trauma of abuse have unwittingly perpetuated some of the unhealed patterns of abuse in our children – and it needs to stop.

Stopping abuse begins inside each individual. It begins with me and you. Our words and our actions can harm or they can heal. I am much more mindful of what I think, how I think and why I think and feel the way I do.

I hope you will take time to think before you speak or react in anger, frustration or rage to those you encounter every day.

Be the change by becoming the game-changer for our world.  Blessed Be.

 

 

 

Author: RM Weldon

I am a wife, mother, an aspiring author, and a woman who has come a long way on her life's journey, to heal from the effects of childhood abuse. It is my hope you will walk with me awhile as the story unfolds.

4 thoughts on “In memory of My Sister”

  1. Renee, your words are very true. I carried heavy pain and suffering from my younger years into the years of raising my children. They lived a pattern of pain because I had not healed. After many,many years and much therapy, I have come a long way into a healing time. I am not the person I was before. I have learned to communicate with my children
    I have acknowledged my mistakes, even though I thought I was doing right ny them at the time. I have apologized to each of them. That is all I can do. I move forward in life with a greater understanding and a more awakened conciousness. I am saddened for you. The pain of losing a siblings is horrible. My prayers are always with you. Thank you once again for sharing a part of your beautiful heart.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you, Mary. I too am not the person I was before. My sons and I have had many heartfelt talks over the years to bring healing to each other. I was emotionally overwhelmed after I came home. Had to take a week off from work to process it all.
      I know it sounds strange, but in my mind, the analogy of her brain cancer and death seemed as if my sister had become the ‘host’ for all of the cancerous experiences abuse created in every soul in our whole family. Her death has brought awareness for many. I will miss her presence, her wild-child smile, and her laughter.

      Like

  2. Sorry for your loss, and thank you for speaking out about the abuse. My mother recently commented that it is now a terrible world we live in that so many receive abuse. I disagree with her (though I didn’t have the cajones to say it to her face) – now fewer and fewer are afraid to speak out about abuse, allowing perpetrators to be brought to a belated justice, and the victims can get some kind of closure.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you for responding. As a survivor of childhood physical, mental, emotional and sexual abuse I understand the stigma of ‘silence.’ Fear becomes the child’s constant companion under the authority of their abuser(s). They adapt to their environment, they conform to appease, placate their parents and become subjugated to the authority of their caretakers.
      When I was growing up, even the adults would shy away from engaging in any conversation about a child standing right next to them with two black eyes. Everything was kept ‘hush, hush’.
      If one digs deep enough inside their heart and mind, over time the truth will rise up with an epiphany of truth. Unraveling the experiences of abuse and trauma takes awareness, time and perseverance. True closure can only be found inside the heart and mind through forgiveness. Doing so cleans the inner landscape of the soul.
      Bless you.

      Liked by 1 person

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