Reflection | My Sister's Keeper

As promised months before it came out, I went to see Sister's Keeper with Q today. We were originally drawn to it largely because of its title, or at least I was, largely because we can both relate to having that title in our own lives. We are our sister's keepers. First because she was deaf. And then because she was not well. Just the glimpses of those two title sisters holding onto one another for dear life reminded me of how I've felt with Nettie plenty times before. In a mall in So Cal, in a hospital in Fresno, in a sandbox on Pleasant. No importa where, mas importa how.

So when we first heard of the movie, Q and I determined we'd have to see it together, knowing that perhaps it would take us on a trip down memory lane. Confident that it'd spark in us a reflection on how we love our dear sister in that way only bearers of the weight of illness can grasp. The story did not disappoint. It certainly called to mind a number of components of the untold story of familial coping with illness. I recognized the heightened dysfunction, the constant tug-of-war over whose will is most noble, the desire to advocate somehow aggressed into anger and abuse, and the woeful apology that blares through it all, though muffled. It finally emerges, whispered.

I am sorry for hurt the family. Very sorry.

Even though it was never her fault. Nor is the need for the apology the fault of the family. The sickness is no one's fault; the aggressive love is no one's fault, but all the while, the pain is very real. It is a difficult cycle whose origination, impact and legacy are quite hard to discern.

Nonetheless, as has ours, the family in the movie persists. Despite the darkness, the questions, the ups, downs and everything in between, they figured out a way to love each other. Masked, shrouded, flattened, silenced, or even mangled...Love still prevails.

Thank you, Jesus.