The Angel Disguised as a Nurse (Remembering My Sister on her Birthday)

In January, my great niece messaged me on Facebook from California. She asked me to send photos of my sister, Mary Kaye who died on her 16th birthday. In 1975, Mary Kaye, her boyfriend, and a friend were on their way to a restaurant for the birthday dinner, when a drunk driver ran into their car. My sister’s boyfriend was killed instantly. Mary Kaye died at the hospital. Their friend survived.

With gratitude, I sent several photos of Mary Kaye to my niece and hinted at my curiosity for her interest. My niece told me that her daughter (my great niece who I’ll refer to as D) had recently come home from the hospital after being seriously injured in a car accident. The following events were sent to me through messenger from D and my niece, M.

No family members had been allowed to go to the hospital to see D due to Covid. She felt scared and alone as the nurses prepared her for surgery. Then D saw one nurse standing nearby, not doing anything, just watching her. The nurse didn’t have a name tag on, she was just standing there, so beautiful and smiling at her. It made D feel safe. When she got out of surgery she saw the same nurse again, just standing there smiling at her. She didn’t think much about it but told her mom about the special nurse after she got home.

When D came home from the hospital, she still had a lot of healing to do and struggled with the loss of her friend who died in the accident. D and her mom were lying in bed looking at my pictures on Facebook. When D saw a picture of my sister Mary Kaye, she started crying.

“That’s her! That’s the nurse!” she said.

The nurse standing by to give comfort with her beautiful smile looked exactly like my sister Mary Kaye. We believe it was Mary Kaye, an angel disguised as a nurse.

…

Today is my sister’s birthday. If she had lived, Mary Kaye would be 64 today. As a teenager, she volunteered at a group home for handicapped children. In the third photo, she’s wearing her yellow and white striped volunteer uniform. If she had lived, I believe Mary Kaye would have been a nurse or worked with children. I am thankful to know that her spirit is alive and well.

My Sisters on the Other Side

Yesterday was the birthday of my older sister, Linda. She’s been gone from this world now for almost ten years. Just a year less than Mom. I don’t remember her being in my life when I was very young, but there are pictures that tell a different story.

Linda is holding me as Mom plays with her hair.

I remember those wooden shoes hurt my feet. Maybe Linda is trying to comfort me with her hand on my knee.

She was ten years older than me, technically a step sister, but the father who adopted her when he married my mother was much more of a father than the first one.

Linda got married at 16. We saw her now and then, usually during a crisis, like when her son died, then the  few months we stayed with her and her husband and daughter when Dad was in Vietnam, and later when my younger sister died.

After my divorce, Linda and I talked on the phone more. Her love and acceptance reached all the way from California to the Atlantic coast. She was a welcome comfort during that dark time of my life. I kept saying my daughter and I were going to come visit her, but I didn’t realize how sick Linda was, and that sometimes we don’t have as much time as we think we have. Still, I’m grateful beyond words for her love and I know she is in a good place, probably singing hymns with Dad like they did when my parent’s visited her church.

A few days ago, I had all the loose the old family photos laid out on the table so I could add them to the family history album. That’s when I realized how much Linda cared for me when I was young.  I also studied the photos of my younger sister, Mary Kaye.  It’s one thing to die when you’re old – whatever old is… I’m not so sure anymore – But Mary Kaye was young. It was on her 16th birthday, in March of 1975, that Mary Kaye was killed by a drunk driver.

Mary Kaye was not interested in school. She smoked cigarettes and ran away from home once. But she also volunteered with handicapped children and helped with fundraisers for their group home.

Mary Kaye in her candy striper (volunteer) uniform with Lobo

Left: MK is putting the hamster on Lobo’s head. Right: she’s wearing the smiley face T shirt and volunteering at the bake sale for the  Carobell children’s home.

We were very different in many ways. She was more of a free spirit. I was more serious about school and had bigger plans for saving the world.  We were just starting to get beyond our sibling rivalry when she died. I often wonder what she would be like today. I wish my kids had been able to know her. These were my thoughts when I started sobbing at the table full of old photos. My husband was there to comfort me and suggested I take a break from the photos since I’d been at it for a while. I picked up my journal and went to the couch to write my feelings. A few minutes later, I felt Mary Kaye’s presence. I have not felt her presence much like I have my parents who died more recently, but it was very much the same feeling of intense JOY. No clear words, like my father gives me, but clear and unmistakable JOY.

This evening, I stopped writing this to go for a walk with David and Doodle. Breathing in the cool air, I reached out to Linda and felt the gentle joy of her spirit. Then lightening flashed in the distant clouds. Maybe that was Mary Kaye.

If you have sisters or brothers, parents or children, beloved family by blood or by choice, still living in this world, treasure the moments you have with them. And also know this, our loved ones who have passed on are alive in spirit and in love on the other side.

Let the Light Shine Through

This morning at church we celebrated All Saints Sunday by lighting candles in memory of saints and loved ones who have passed away.

In his sermon, Father Banks told us a story of many years ago when people were being confirmed as members of the Episcopal church and were asked questions by the visiting bishop. All those being confirmed sat in the front pew and answered the questions correctly until the last young man. The bishop asked him: “What is a saint?” There was only silence as the young man looked around nervously. He didn’t remember learning this in catechism. Then he looked at the stained glass window behind the bishop depicting Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. The young man grinned and pointed over the bishop’s head to the window. Those are saints up there, right behind you! The saints are the ones who let the light shine through!

Father Banks reminded us that saints are ordinary people who have an extraordinary relationship with God. Ordinary people who are not perfect, who make mistakes, but they let the light shine through.

When it was my turn to light a candle, I lit one in memory of my sister who died in a car accident in 1975.  My sister was on her way to celebrate her 16th birthday with her boyfriend. They were both killed by a drunk driver on their way to the restaurant.

We were just starting to get over our sibling rivalry. My sister and I were polar opposites in many ways.

 She was outgoing and rebellious. (I rebelled later.) She skipped school a lot, pan-handled to buy cigarettes, and who knows what else, and she even ran away from home a couple of times.

This same sister also loved animals and volunteered at a small group home for handicapped children. She loved to take care of the Carobel kids, especially the bedridden boy who’s huge hydro-cephalic head had to be turned often. Until today, I had not thought of my sister as a saint, but she was. She was not perfect, but she let the light of God shine through her, if only for a short time.

A lovely beam of light shines through the big stained glass window at the back of  our  church.  I didn’t realize, until today, that this light beam is only visible because it comes through a broken place in the window.

We are flawed. We make mistakes. But we can still let the light shine through. We let the light shine into our hearts. We are blessed that way.