What a sad day for
my family. My sister is at the Brain Trauma Center tonight at Ohio State
University Hospital. She was taken by paramedics to Mansfield General on three
different occasions this past week. Yesterday was a hearing between her lawyer
and Wal-Mart and she broke down in a big way. Uncontrollable crying.
At least her
lawyer is finally getting somewhere with the cruel, cold corporation that once
loved my sister because she was so good at her job as a greeter and caught all
kinds of shoplifters and treated disabled people with such affection. She was
the award winner for the whole store for getting the most people to
contribute to a charity drive.
My sister was
actually on a store camera when she fell 21/2 years ago on their
buckled asphalt near Lawn &Garden and hit her head hard on the
parking lot. Just before I went to a wedding today at Shorewood I called her to
have her tell me about what is in her will for me and how she is cashing out
from the stock market next week and will go somewhere on her own. My mother
thinks all of this is causing her to lose her mind and that she may be going
insane. How do you begin to comprehend that? We don't know.
With the busy
lives people have today they often don't have time to listen or even want
to hear the details of what's causing you so much pain. Life is full of running
errands and taking orders and trying to unwind with your loved one at
Starbucks. My sister (only a year and a half older) thinks overall I have been
a selfish and insensitive sister when presented with her entire life as
someone who is not mentally retarded but "slow." Before she hung up
on me just before the wedding, she said, "You think like Daddy used to
talk." She obviously wanted to get the message through finally. Maybe I
will finally take the rare wisdom she has always had seriously.
Here's a couple of
Bette Midler songs my sister Rita has always loved:
"The
Rose"
Some say love, it
is a river
that drowns the
tender reed.
Some say love, it
is a razor
that leaves your
soul to bleed.
Some say love, it
is a hunger,
an endless aching
need.
I say love, it is
a flower,
and you its only
seed.
It's the heart
afraid of breaking
that never learns
to dance.
It's the dream
afraid of waking
that never takes
the chance.
It's the one who
won't be taken,
who cannot seem to
give,
and the soul
afraid of dyin'
that never learns
to live.
When the night has
been too lonely
and the road has
been to long,
and you think that
love is only
for the lucky and
the strong,
just remember in
the winter
far beneath the
bitter snows
lies the seed that
with the sun's love
in the spring
becomes the rose.
"WIND BENEATH
MY WINGS"
Oh, oh, oh, oh,
oh.
It must have been
cold there in my shadow,
to never have
sunlight on your face.
You were content
to let me shine, that's your way.
You always walked
a step behind.
So I was the one
with all the glory,
while you were the
one with all the strength.
A beautiful face
without a name for so long.
A beautiful smile
to hide the pain.
Did you ever know
that you're my hero,
and everything I
would like to be?
I can fly higher
than an eagle,
'cause you are the
wind beneath my wings.
It might have
appeared to go unnoticed,
but I've got it
all here in my heart.
I want you to know
I know the truth, of course I know it.
I would be nothing
without you.
Did you ever know
that you're my hero?
You're everything
I wish I could be.
I could fly higher
than an eagle,
'cause you are the
wind beneath my wings.
Did I ever tell
you you're my hero?
You're everything,
everything I wish I could be.
Oh, and I, I could
fly higher than an eagle,
'cause you are the
wind beneath my wings,
'cause you are the
wind beneath my wings.
Oh, the wind
beneath my wings.
You, you, you, you
are the wind beneath my wings.
Fly, fly, fly
away. You let me fly so high.
Oh, you, you, you,
the wind beneath my wings.
Oh, you, you, you,
the wind beneath my wings.
Fly, fly, fly high
against the sky,
so high I almost
touch the sky.
Thank you, thank
you,
thank God for you,
the wind beneath my wings.
To give you an
idea of who my sister is, here's a piece I wrote on her years ago when I
thought I was going to write a book about the two of us:
I'm currently working on a piece about the
growth of paganism in our culture, but thought I'd fill the void with a
Bible-related account from my sister, Rita.
In high school, starting at age 15, Rita worked
an after-school job as a nurse's helper for a state-subsidized nursing home
devoted to severely disabled people.
Her favorite resident soon became a guy in his
50s named Louie, who was both disabled and classified as "mentally
retarded."
She tells their story as "buddies"
like this:
"Louie was born with severe birth defects,
including a clubfoot, and very bad asthma. His mother shoved him a state
institution and he never got schooling. She never visited him and practically
disowned him. Pretty much she just treated him like crap.
"Louie had a hard time going to the
bathroom, not only because of his foot but because he had chronic asthma. He
would accidentally pee himself.
"He lost his teeth when he was very young
due to malnutrition from his mother.
"I remembered from my first days at the
nursing home he was always making potholders. Now don't ask me how he was
taught this but he was real good at it and used to sell them to everybody. He'd
say, 'You want to buy a potholder off me today—I got one for a $1.'
"He'd ask people, 'You know what I'm
saving the money for? I'm saving for teeth.'
"When he first told me this, I said, 'Good
for you, Louie, that's really wonderful! You're really trying to do something
nice for yourself!'
He said, 'Well, I feel like I need to do
something because I can't stand chomping on my gums.'
'I said, 'You're right, that would feel pretty
uncomfortable chewing.'
"After Louie started learning different
things about me, I used to tease him and call him my boyfriend. The point is he
got to talking to me about everything and he said one day,
'You know, Rita, I don't understand this. I've
never had schooling in my life. I don't necessarily know how to write except
for my name, but can you figure this out—I can read the Bible all the way
through and tell you what it says through and through. I've memorized
everything I've read.'
"I said, 'Wow, Louie, that's a gift from
God!'
"Anyway, time went by and you really
weren't allowed to talk about religion when you worked in a nursing home.
"One day I'll always remember was when I
was invited to go with the whole nursing home, staff and patients, to Geauga
Lake (an amusement park in northeastern Ohio). The other chaperones wanted to
split off with the easier patients—the ones that wouldn't pee their pants
and all that other stuff—but I took Louie and all the other mentally
retarded one. I had about five or six to chaperone and I took off with them to
show them a good time.
"I remember saying, 'Louie, pick out a
ride. Pick out anything. It's your day.'
We found the first ride that had the right kind
of steps for his foot and I said, 'Louie, we need to go one step at a time up
those steps, so you hold onto me and I'll hold onto you and we'll get up
there.'
"I said to all the men, 'We're going to do
this all together guys because we're going to have a good time together.' And
they said, 'Yeah!'
"So here's Louie trying to go up the steps
with asthma and all, and he's getting up there and getting up there and getting
up there--he's getting to the platform. Finally he got on this ride and then we
all got on.
"I never saw anybody enjoy their day more.
We did anything they wanted to do within reason. We had a ball.
"When we wanted to go to the bathroom, no
problem. I said, 'Louie, I'll have to walk you to the door and you'll have to
go by yourself. Go slow, and take your time because we're going to have a good
time and we're not going to worry about you falling. We're not going to worry
about anything.'
"And he said, 'Okay, Rita,' catching his
breath and all because he had chronic asthma.
"As the day went on, we'd pass other
people from the nursing home and the chaperones would say to me, 'Oh, I'm so
tired. It's so hot out here.'
"They were complaining and here I was
laughing inside, singing in my heart, thinking to myself, 'We're having a great
time. I don't know about you, but we're having a super time!'
"Of course, I had the ones nobody else
wanted, but I loved them. It was so nice spending time one-on-one with the
people who really needed love.
"So get this, when we got back on the bus
to go back to the nursing home, Louie said, 'I had the greatest time,' in his
huffy voice--he was catching his breath, trying to smile and laugh at the same
time. Then he said, 'I love you,' and I said, 'I love you too, Louie.'
"And then all of a sudden I got a hug from all the men I took care of and
I said to them, 'I love all of you the same and don't you ever forget it.'
"Then, when the other nursing home
employees were huffing and puffing, complaining about the hard day they had,
putting everybody into the toilet and everything, the activity director stood
up in the bus and said, 'I have an announcement to make. I would like to say
'thank you' to somebody who did a wonderful job taking care of her group. And I
would like to present this person a present from them.'
"And she named my name. It was a little
heart trinket box and you know how I liked hearts when I was younger. I still
keep it as my keepsake box.
"Time went by and, as you remember, I was
in the hospital from the car accident we were in. Well, all 27 people in the
nursing home took time to write me a card in the hospital.
"And then here's Louie, somebody's whose
been crippled up since birth, and he's made me a heart from construction paper
as a special homemade card. He told me later he made it to look like a
lightbulb with hearts at the bottom but without it coming to a point at the
top. It didn't come to a point at the top.
"After that, guess what happened? Louie
had almost earned all the money he needed for his teeth but guess what
happened? He died.
"Since he was pretty much deserted by his
mom and dad and everyone in his family, they asked me to give a eulogy at the
funeral. I was so upset from his death, though, I just couldn't find the right
words. I kept praying about it and I feel bad about it to this day. I still say
sometimes to God, 'Say Hi to Louie for me.'
"Louie had a spirit of gold. Even though
he was always the worst of clients at the nursing home because he couldn't do
much, we hit it off like buddies from the beginning. I remember one time I
said, 'Louie, how would you like to have a good back rub tonight to help you
sleep.' He said, 'I haven't had one of those in years and I don't even remember
having one. I don't mind if you do.'
I said, 'Good, because I'm going to give you a
good back rub and give you some lotion and then you're going to sleep good.'
Here are some questions I asked my sister about
Louie:
Lisa: "What exactly did he ever say about
the Bible?"
Rita: "He could tell you anything that
happened in the Bible and interpret it. I don't remember--it's been so long
ago--but he would read it daily. Every day like clockwork. He would read in the
morning, I think, but I worked in the afternoon, and I know he read before he
went to bed."
Lisa: "Did he tell anybody about what he
learned?"
Rita: "Oh, yeah, he used to quote story
after story."
Lisa: "Did people listen?"
Rita: "Well, yeah, but you know when
people hear religion they want to turn the other way. And then people would
sometimes say things like, 'You're out of your mind. You don't know anything.
You're different.'
"Me, I knew just to believe what I saw in
him as a person. He was a man bound-and-determined man to get some teeth and he
was bound-and-determined to get them by making potholders. He used to make
towels, too, all kinds of stuff. Just trying to get along.
"The things I learned off those people
were incredible. There was love there. There was magnetism there. There was
spontaneous love. There was conviction. There were highlights in my day all the
time. When I thought the whole world was ending, they always picked up my
spirits.
"They said, 'It looks like you need a hug
today.' I said, 'I sure can use one—give me a big one! Give me a big,
bigger hug,' and they'd squeeze me and I'd say, 'Sing for me,' and they'd sing
for me. They always did something to make me feel good because we were never
allowed to receive gifts.
"But my gifts were internal. I saw God
working in me to work FOR them."
Lisa: "You also saw God working in THEM
for YOU."
Rita: "RIGHT! I mean I was taught morals,
wisdom, spiritual life, giving life, Corinthian love. I was taught
discipleship. I was taught religion. I was taught everything I needed to know
to grow. They are the ones I credit. It was addicting to me because God gave me
the strength to go to school full-time and, after school was up, go to work
full-time. That was illegal of course, but I didn't know any better. I didn't
know any better that I wasn't allowed to work until I was 16. You're not
allowed to work past so many hours when you're 15.
"But it must have been God saying, 'You
know, Rita, I think you deserve to be in that place right now. I'm going to
choose that one.' Eventually it just became natural. Everything and anything happened
for me. I felt God had responsibility for it—you know what I mean?
"I can't see myself ever forgetting those
memories. I felt so strong it was God's way because I remember very well on
August 10, 1978, when I called several different places, asking, 'Are you
accepting applications?' and I'd get, 'No.' 'Do you need someone to pump gas?'
'No.' 'Do you need someone to be a waitress or clean up floors?' 'No.' Then I
said, 'Oh, I'll just pick one more out of the phone book.'
"The last call I made was to 994-4250 and I asked, 'Are you accepting any applications?' The guy said, 'Well, what's your name,' and I told him. I said, 'Rita Leland.' He said, 'How old are you?' and I said, '15'. He asked, 'When's your birthday?' and I told him. He said, 'C'mon down and I'll talk to the manager in the mean time' and later on they said, 'We'll talk.' "