February 2013

Two Sisters

A sibling’s emergency becomes a powerful reminder of why we don’t pick up

In February 2006, I got a phone call: “Aunt Pooh, this is Deanna. Call me as soon as you get this message.” These are the unforgettable words that I heard that Thursday night when I returned from walking my dogs, Kevin and Bazzle. I immediately returned the phone call to my niece, whom I hadn’t spoken to in several years. I did not know how bad the news would be, but I already knew in my heart that my sister, Julia, was in trouble, because she’s an alcoholic. She has been an alcoholic for most of her life, as have I.

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