I apologize in advance for the size of this post and the tertiary role of headphones. I thought it may contain some lessons that may be of use to the good folks here.
“Always cherish the time you have with your sisters” I told my son as my sister was taking her dying breaths at the intensive care unit. “You never know how much time you have with them.” And then minutes later, the doctors told me her time was nearing its end. My sister’s eyes had almost a stone-like quality in their immobility and lifelessness. Her body was held together by a ventilator and IV antibiotic, vasopressor and fluid drips, her spirit having long escaped. Then the breaths became agonal and forced the moment the tube came out of her throat, eventually becoming fitful and eventually ceasing. The sister I had known and loved for years would would no be longer alive, but then again there would no longer be suffering from the malady of multiple sclerosis and how it riddled her body. There were tendon-shortening contactures from lack of stimulation. Osteoporotic fractures to her spine and legs from years of steroid use from years earlier. Decubitus ulcers and infections from her immobility, the latter occurring with such regularity that it led to a cancer of her bladder. In her last moments, I was able to see her face lighten with a calm sense of peace as she passed away.
The sister in the ICU will not be the one that I remember. I prefer to think of her as the adventurous artist and music lover. My first memories of her were of her showing me how to put the needle of the tone arm on the record for the LP of “Snoopy vs the Red Baron” that I got for my birthday. One day, she got sick and had to come home with an eye patch when she lost vision in her eye temporarily - the telltale optic neuritis that foretells a future diagnosis of multiple sclerosis. When my parents were out, I remember her blasting The Who and Pink Floyd on the hi-fi system. Music as therapy. When life gets unbearable, you can always tune in to whatever makes you happy. It was awesome having a sister who was eleven years older because she had all the knowledge of what was great to listen to in the seventies, arguably the most fertile decade in popular music history. She had eclectic taste from what I remember - joining the hard-rock posters on her bedroom was a cheesy smiling Barry Manilow, the antithesis of cool. But she didn’t care. Never let anyone tell you what you have to like, she told me, just find what you like and be happy.
That happy-go-lucky attitude was a godsend to her as she struggled with her illness over the years. She would host parties for her friends when my parents were out of town. She gutted her way through a few semesters of college. Always managed to hold a job, even as the disease robbed her legs of the ability to move. She had to give up on her dream of being an artist as she could no longer make the requisite fine motor movements. Her body wouldn’t allow for what her mind wanted to do, but it did not disrupt her energy. She was a jovial spirit and wouldn’t let her illness define her. Even she stubbornly tried to keep going out to bars to hang out with her friends every week, clinging to normalcy. Sometimes her body gave way when she came home and could no longer make it up the stairs, and she would call me to pick her up off the ground and get her back to bed as not to disturb my sleeping parents. It was those times that I felt best in retrospect. Me being able to pick her up when she needed me, because of all the times she inspired me to never complain about whatever life throws at you. You have others to pick you up.
So then I decided to use music as therapy. I bought a Red Halo, if for no other reason to have something to look forward to during a dark period. The first album I listened to my Versions of Me, by the Brazilian dance pop star Anitta. It was buoyant, full of life. Probably the most perfect pop album I’ve listened to since 1989 by Taylor Swift. And it arrived at just the right time. I would pop it on most every day during elliptical workouts or hikes in the woods. Last week I was in LA to see my son, and as fortune would have it - Anitta performed at the LA Pride festival. Here was my vantage point:
I was able to attend my first show since the pandemic, and was treated to one of the best shows of my life. I have seen Prince in person. I have seen Beyoncé in person. She is every bit the entertainer as those legends. Her energy was incredible, and the show was therapeutic in that I was able to feel a bit of weight leave my shoulders.
So value the time you have with your siblings. And keep your mind open for musical journeys because they may lead you to a more peaceful place.
