When good intentions go bad (Tara Taylor Quinn)

Confession time. A couple of weeks ago I spoke to you all about my integrity. Specifically about a surprise party my family and friends and I had thrown for my mother. I was so focused on my integrity, that I failed to 'hear' the rest of what I said. I was engrossed in the guilt of lying so well and thinking about the hardest lies I told, and that, even those, I told so well. One of them was about my brother coming from Ohio. Everyone who knows my mom knows that he is the light of her life. Everything is better if my brother is present. When he does wrong, it smells like lilacs. He was the hardest lie. The second was his two babies. Now, I have to say, my mom has four grandchildren that she adores equally. She loves them equally, spends time and thought on them equally. She has two older grandaughters - one 21 and one 7 - and I've never seen her realize that they do anything wrong. Ever. There's always a reason why it wasn't their fault. And then...there are the two babies. Babies that came to my brother and his wife when they were in their forties. We thought our tiny family was all done growing and then, out of the blue we had not one, but two babies, one right after the other. There's something special about babies. We all get our baby time. Well, this is Bubby and Claire's baby time. And keeping their arrival a secret was HARD. Mostly because the two of them had never been to our homes or even in our part of the country. I had to get baby paraphenalia, cribs and things and was having them delivered, for my mother's use, without even knowing where she'd want me to get them. She'd rented before, for the seven year old. I didn't know from where.

So... my ability to keep those two secrets scared me. I told you all about it. And I inadvertantly hurt the feelings of people who also were a part of the party, of the surprise, people who mean as much as I do in the whole scheme of things, or as my brother or my daughter, or anyone else dear to my mom. And I didn't mention them. As if their presence didn't matter. I hate that I did that.

Today, in keeping with this, and in keeping with Lynn Kerstan's post, also of a few weeks ago, about caregivers, I want to tell you a little about someone who I love, admire, and respect. Someone who goes through her days very quietly, giving every ounce of energy and then some. I never had a sister. I always wanted one. My brother waited a long time to give me one. But finally just over ten years ago, he finally got married and I finally had that sister. It takes a while, bonding with someone you don't know, but over the past few years, I've grown to love this woman as more than just my sister. She is one of God's chosen. At the age of forty two, she was blessed with an unexpected and unplanned pregnancy. This while she was still getting to know the three month old baby she'd just had. And just weeks after finding out the news, she found out that this new little unexpected angel, our first boy!, had Down Syndrome. After the initial shock and before the adjustment period, my sister in law's reaction is one that showed the woman I'd been wanting to know. That baby was her son. Period. There would be no talk of terminating the pregnancy, of ANYTHING, other than a healthy pregnancy and a happy child. With a five year old, and a newborn, she set forth, when most of us are looking toward menopause, to bring another baby into the world. And to do so without her other two precious children losing out. And after this baby came, she continues to nourish that family in miraculous ways. She didn't just birth that boy, but continues to help him grow and develop as she did when he was still in the womb. She takes him to therapy. But it doesn't stop there. She listens and learns and every minute of every day, in an overwhelming number of ways, she tends to his development with little games and exercises, even learning basic sign language so that as his throat muscles are slow to develop, his ability to communicate is not - all the while, tending to her other children. She is a brownie leader. She drives to swim lessons and music lessons, and toddler play day. She keeps a clean house and she's a fabulous cook and has dinner on the table every night. Good dinner. I actually eat when I'm there. Homemade soups and casseroles and a pumpkin log that is sinful. She carves pumpkins (by the 20) and puts food out for the reindeer. She carts the kids to watch my brother play softball. I know this sounds like I'm embellishing, when, in truth, I'm leaving out a whole lot.

The world is filled with people like my sister in law - and people like me who mean well but get so focused we don't see what we aren't doing. Today, I'd like to challenge all of you to take just a second from the schedule and responsibilities and rush and look outside the business of living to see who's there beside you. And to let them know that you see them. And that you care.