Loose Leaf Notes

Writing is the way I process, the way I tap my emotions that I sometimes otherwise block.  This is not THE story, but just a little piece from my perspective that hopefully gives a glimmer into what was gold: My sister Kathleen Marie Redman Osborn (aka Kathleen Flying Boat by our father) January 29, 1948 – November 12, 2015

When I heard from my sister Kathy’s oldest daughter Chrissie that Kathy might not make it through November and would probably not be there for her daughter Beth’s wedding on November 7, I went out and bought Kathy a birthday card.  Her birthday was in January.  Maybe we could hope for that long.

The card was gold and said something like ‘the best way to give to the world is to be loved.’  I bought it as a wish that Kathy would make it for her birthday, but I also knew her timing for leaving the world would be uniquely her own and that her end would have its own wisdom. So, I sent the card a few weeks after buying it because it was a beautiful card and I wanted her see its beauty.  I wanted her to know how much she was loved and what an invaluable contribution she made in that department.

The last time I saw her was in September.  I think she had just started hospice, but she made it to “Kathy’s Labor Day Cookout” at our brother Joey’s in great style.  Kathy and her husband Ozzie hosted family Labor Day cookouts for many years, but after our brothers Jim and Dan died in 2001, we all lost the heart for them.  She planned a cookout for 2015 knowing she was sick with cancer.  She probably did it in the same way I bought the card for her birthday.  By the time Labor Day came around she didn’t have enough energy to host it, but Joey did and she came and we all had a great time!

She also made it for a momentous five generation photo shoot in September with our 90-year old mother at the nursing home.  There was Kathy, her oldest daughter Chrissie, her first grandchild Samantha and now great baby Violet all smiling in the photo that was published in the Hull Times.  Kathy also did make her daughter Beth’s wedding. Her spirit glowed in a fabulous silky gold outfit that Beth altered to fit her.  I think the wedding was a pinnacle life experience that I guessed had some closure for her.

When I was in town for the Labor Day Cookout, I visited Kathy in her home. She was watching one of her favorite interior design shows on TV and was hooking a rug!  I remember that I brought her a banana.  I was thrilled that she wanted it and ate it because she hadn’t been able to keep much down.  After about three years of chemo that did extend her life, she was accepting of the dying process she was now in.  Standing in her kitchen with her and Oz, we were talking about our mother, Barbara, when Kathy said, “She’s going to outlive me.” That was hard to hear but true. 

Through the rest of September, October and early November she had time with her daughters Chrissie, Beth, Kim and Molly and her beloved grandchildren and now great grandchild.  She posted family photos on Facebook nearly every day and made comments, even on her last day.

The day before Kathy died I bought my first lottery ticket in solidarity with her.  Our sister Sherry had started a small ritual of bringing a $10 scratch ticket when she visited Kathy on Wednesdays. It perked Kathy up and was something she could do from her bed.  Sometimes they posted pictures on Facebook of their “casino day.”

So, I bought a ticket, took a picture and posted it on her wall, saying, what’s the best thing to scratch this with, Kath?  She knew I didn’t have the gambling gene like so many in our family did, and being one who was always aware of others’ feelings, she told me she felt guilty that I had to drive far to get it. She thought we should switch to $5 tickets. What?!  I wanted to buy it and play.  I wanted to be a small part of my sisters’ time together, and maybe I’d bring some good luck.

That was Wednesday.  Sherry, a hospice nurse, called Thursday morning to tell me that Kathy died that morning about 4:00 a.m. and that when she went to Kathy’s house later that morning she thought she saw a slight smile on Kathy’s face. She had never seen anything like that before in all her nursing career, she said. But Kathy’s hospice nurse said she had seen it before, but only on people who died in their own homes and not in the hospital.

Sherry also told me that when she was with Kathy the day before the night she died, she and Oz were helping Kathy to the bathroom when she said “tell my brothers and sisters that I love them.”  Sherry didn’t pick up on the clue at the time.

When Sherry was at Kathy’s bedside the morning Kathy died, she kissed our sister goodbye and said to her, “I just wanted you to be here for a few more weeks. I wanted us to win the million together!

We’re all winners just knowing Kath and having been part of her life.

Photos: 1. Kathy at Beth’s wedding. 2. Sisters Tricia, Colleen, Kathy and Sherry at the 2015 Labor Day Cookout 3. Five generations picture that was in the Hull Times. 4.   Ozzie and Kathy in September when I visited them at their home. 5. Kathy and Oz’s daughters Chrissie, Molly, Kim and Beth. 6.  Our brothers Johnny and Joey.  7. Our brother Bobby with his daughter Mary.  Below: an old family Labor Day Cookout with Jim and Dan.  And there’s my mom and dad (who died in 2005) with their grandson Matty (Tricia’s son who is 18 now) at a past Labor Day Cookout.  M0re pictures of this year’s Cookout are HERE.