Sisters

One of my biggest sadness in life, is that my 5 year old son doesn’t have a brother or sister. If I were to leave this life, who would he have by his side to grow up with? He longs for a sibling as much as I long to give him one. I have to believe that even if I can’t have another biological child, mine and Rory’s lives are meant to have a house full of children living happily ever after. Whether it be by adoption, fostering, surrogacy or step siblings, our hearts are meant to love more children in our happy home!

I am blessed with an older brother and a sister. My childhood is filled with wonderful family memories. And although my brother has emigrated to the other side of the world, there is not a day that goes by where I don’t think about or miss him and his family.

My sister is my best friend.

There is 21 months between us. We look nothing alike! Growing up, she had the straight black hair and I had the wild, curly goldilocks! Our temperaments are also very different, with me being the quiet and more reserved out of the two! But we compliment each other very well!

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She is the light and soul of my life (and of course Rory!). I followed in her footsteps career wise and her experiences of travelling gave me the confidence to explore the world. She has got me in more trouble during our youth than I care to remember but has filled my life with more fun than I could ever forget! We’ve worked Ski and summer seasons together abroad. She was always the thrill seeker! I was the follower! But without my sister I wouldn’t have had such a memorable and enriched past. We used one of our many lives skiing off piste  in the French Alps. We were seasonal chalet girls and making the most of our free ski passes. I was a beginner, my sister was much more of an accomplished skier, or so I thought! When a blizzard set in, we knew we were in trouble. Fortunately the very angry mountain rescuers got us down to a place of safety, oops!

I was always the sensible one! Always looking out for my sister. Growing up I was a real pain. I just wanted to follow her around everywhere and she would be made to have me along side her and her friends. I was one of those annoying little sister’s! We argued. We ram sacked each others bedrooms looking for ‘borrowed’ items. But we also nursed each others broken hearts and understood each other only as a sister could.

 

 

My sister has overcome so many heart-breaking situations in her life. With unbelievable strength and dignity. A survivor of immense pain. And yet she was, and still is, always there for me, and now for my little boy too. Nobody loves his Aunty Trace as much as Rory!

When I was 15 years old, and my sister 17, we made a terrible judgement call and got into a car we never should have late at night. The driver lost control of the car and crashed into a bridge. 4 out of the 5 passengers suffered broken bones. My sister being the most severe, breaking her arm and leg. I was the ‘lucky’ one. I got away with concussion and no memory of the accident at all.

Our dad was working on vehicle recovery at the time of the accident and had a call to recover the smashed up car we had been in. Just as he was leaving the house, the phone rang again to inform him that both of his daughters had been in that accident and he was needed at the hospital immediately. With my sister in surgery and me a hysterical mess, our parents were in a complete nightmare. My sister lost a lot of blood internally and was touch and go for a long while.

She spent the next 6 months bedbound in hospital with what can only be described as a piece of torture equipment screwed into her bones and traction weights suspended with her leg in the air. Even during that time, she made the situation bearable for everyone. My sister is very funny. She brought humour even when it was inappropriate but very much needed! She ran the hospital ward! Friends brought in takeaways and always outstayed the visiting times. She made the other patients and their families laugh even throughout her own pain and discomfort.

She had a long road to recovery. She had to postpone returning to college. She had to learn to walk again with intense physiotherapy. Once she was allowed home, even though she could walk a few steps, she still needed to depend on a wheelchair to get around. We used to wheel her around our little town and everyone would stop to chat to her. We were even given VIP treatment in pubs and our local club when the time came to socialise again. Nothing was going to stop my sister  living her life!

She has courage beyond belief.

So on Friday, 26 years later, my very brave sister is having surgery again to repair damage to the previous broken bone. Again she will face gruelling physiotherapy and another 6 months of wearing a metal calliper. She will get through it. Her little girls will get her through it. But I wish she didn’t have to go through it at all. I would do anything to take this pain away from her. The guilt that she got hurt so bad and not me lives with me everyday.

On the morning of my mastectomy, when I was petrified, she drove to be with me, to hold my hand and to be there when I woke up. She was there when I looked at my scar for the first time. She made me laugh during my cancer treatment and got me through it. She loves my boy the way I do. As I do my nieces.

So once again the Murphy’s are faced with medical challenges, painful memories and guilt. But I’m sure each one of us has been chosen for various things in our lives because we can get through them. We are lucky. We are strong. And we have each other.

Please keep my amazing sister in your thoughts throughout these next few months.

Love you Trace, my absolute hero! xxx

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