She was my mother's first born. And she wasn't expected to survive. She was born with two holes in her heart, under developed lungs, and a physical deformity of her hands and arms.
She underwent one of the very first open-heart surgeries in South Texas. At the age of 3, they opened her chest and surgically closed the dime-sized hole in one of the upper chambers and the quarter-sized hole in one of the lower chambers of her heart.
Her lungs were a different story. There was nothing they could do about their condition. They were underdeveloped and produced a never ending supply of thick, choking phlegm. Veronica would struggle with every breath for the rest of her life.
As a result, she was always required to take medications to loosen the phlegm so she could get it out of her lungs. She was also required to do regular steroid treatments to open her constricted airways.
Despite starting life with these issues, she was strong. And she fought. My parents were also relentless about keeping up with her medications as a child. And as a result of all that effort, Veronica's condition was so well managed she grew and thrived.
In fact, she did so well she even found some rebelliousness in her teen years.
By the time she was 18 she was so well that she moved out. In fact she couldn't wait to leave. She wanted to make her own rules and much like her rock idols from Motley Crue, she lived for the party and people who just wanted to have a good time.
For the next several years she put herself and my parents through hell. Veronica wasn't taking care of herself the way they thought she should and was surrounding herself with questionable characters. But Veronica loved her independence and loved living by her own rules.
And as every parent learns one way or the other, you can't live your child's life for them.
As for me, all I knew is that I missed my big sister. She was a great big sister to me.
I remember when I was little, walking down the hall to her room whenever I was lonely or bored.
She'd be there sitting on the bed, usually writing, either poems or stories or elaborate notes to friends. Despite the physical limitations of her hands she had incredible handwriting.
There was also always music coming from her room. Her favorite band was Motley Crue. She loved rock and at that time Hair Metal was big. Whether is was Poison, Cinderella, Bon Jovi, Ratt or whatever--she loved it all. But no one more than Motley Crue. She had their posters all over her wall and should often times have their music blaring--much to the dismay of my parents.
I loved going in there. Sometimes I would just sit with her. She was always willing to talk or just let me hang out. She was also the only one always willing to play games with me.
If I was tired she'd put her things aside and let me cuddle up with her and take a nap.
She would soothe me and make me feel like I wasn't alone, and at times I really needed it more than I understood. She took such great care of me as child. She was a great big sister like that. So even though I was much older and had grown somewhat distant from her by the time she moved out, I still missed her when she left the house.
I don't know the details of the wars she and my parents had, or what happened between my brother and her but we just kept growing apart from her.
Veronica was determined to live her life her own way. She surrounded herself with people who I think made her happy and made her feel like family. But they were much different than our family and lived a much rougher way of life. As a result, she drifted further from us.
I think she would have liked to see us more often, but her lifestyle made it very difficult. For me, it was hard to see her begin struggling more and more. We all tried to help her at one time or another but none of it seemed to make much difference. Some of this had to with the fact that Veronica was never going to give up having a good time. She was never going to do what we wanted her to do, including taking better care of herself. And she was never going to give up the life she made for herself. She wasn't going to give any of it up to move back in with my parents.
I've realized it may not have been the path I wanted for her, but it may have been the path that brought her some kind of happiness and personal satisfaction. Whatever the case it wasn't an easy path in terms of the toll it took on her health. But that can't be the only measure of wellness in a person's life. And success for one person will never be the same for another.
She sought out her own life. And she was dedicated to it and would not compromise it. And that's just the way it was going to be.
When Veronica was born my mother was told to prepare for the worst. Veronica was not expected to live more than a few years. Well as my aunt says, "She was a miracle from the beginning," and I believe it. She was a survivor. And she lived a hard life but she took from it everything she could in the time she had. And in the end I think that's all that matters.
I'll miss my sister. I'll never forget the tenderness she showed me as a child. I'll always be inspired by her strength in living with her health problems and physical limitations.
I sometimes play with the crazy idea that she took the bullet for my brother and I. What if it had been one of us that was dealt that hand of being the first born with those challenges? Would we have handled it with such strength. Would we have shown as much caring for our younger siblings despite all of it? And it makes me grateful for her and feel fortunate for the life I have. She started out behind in the race. There was nothing she did to deserve it and nothing anyone can say to make any sense out of it or reason for it. It's just the way it was.
Now, my sister's journey on this Earth is over. I don't believe in supernatural things. I don't believe in any gods or in an afterlife like Heaven.
But now I think I understand why some people would hope a place like Heaven existed. Where a loved one, who struggled so seemingly undeservedly, could go and live eternity in peace and happiness.
Believe me if there was a place like that I'd definitely want my sister to go. No doubt about it. She'd not only deserve it but she'd have earned it.
In the end I think all we have is the life we lead. The good things we do, the lives we touch, the people we love, and the memories we leave behind in the minds of those who remain. And probably most important of all, the feelings we leave in their hearts. That's our afterlife.
I could go on sharing more memories of Veronica. Believe me, so many have flooded my mind in the past few days. But perhaps that's best left for another time. For now I'll just say to my sister, thank you for being my big sister. Thank you for showing me what it's like to let your heart lead the way without fear. You were a miracle to me and I'll miss you dearly Veronica. Love you always sis.
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