Saying What Should Be Said

I have a brother-in-law, Javad, of whom I am quite fond. He is married to my younger sister. They have two beatiful boys whom I adore and I am proud of the fact that he really is a rocket scientist. Of course, I'm proud of my sister, a dean of graduate students and associate VP at the State college where she works, too.

I think what made me first really take notice of Javad, who he is as a man, was how kind and respectful he was to my parents. They always lived across the hall from each other in apartments or shared a house with a basement apartment or, in these last 12 years or so, had them living in their home until my parents required a nursing home. All that time, he treated them with respect and took a step back when necessary to maintain peace. I don't think he gets a lot of credit for that in our extended family. And I don't think it was always easy because he was up against some hard-headed folks, I can tell you. But he appreciated the help they gave while they were healthy enough to do so and then he returned the favor by helping Kandi care for them when they could no longer care for themselves. Certainly, there were pluses on both sides. Kandi and Javad had child care for their boys whenever they needed it and the boys got the extra attention and love that only grandparents (or those wonderful, dear friends who step in to act as such) can provide to children. When Mom and Dad could no longer care for themselves, became a danger to themselves, Kandi and Javad found a lovely place for them to live where they are well cared for. Kandi visits regularly and makes sure the care they get is the very best possible.

Now that my parents are nearing the end of their lives and my mom is actually dying, Javad supports Kandi through this transition that I wish I could be there to help her with. This experience will be hardest on her. She has been closest to them, lived with them ALWAYS, watched her children attach to them and has endured watching them fade from who they once where to the confused and sickly elderly people they now are. On my last visit, Javad quietly asked me to be sure I could get there when it happens, that Kandi would need me. And I promised to do so. I'm working all the hours I can so I can come to her without losing any pay from my job and I am beginning to build a savings account again so that I can afford to come and stay a little while to help her manage.

I am grateful for my faith which allows me to know that my parents will be in a place where they will feel no pain, can move freely, can watch over us here on earth and will see their infant son who was not able to take a single breath while on this earth. He waits for them to raise him in a heavenly home. I know my sister will be blessed for all she has done for them - all the difficult, heart-wrenching decisions she has had to make. She will be held most high for this prolonged and great sacrafice she has made. And so will Javad for never failing her in his support and the respect and kindness he offered them. I pray always for them to endure this well and to have the strength to carry on to the end. And I know they will.

So, to my sister and her husband, thank you for all you have done. It will not be forgotten - not by me and not by our parents when their minds are once again whole.