I have two sisters. Marty is two years older than I am. She lives near Little Rock, Arkansas with her husband and her four kids. Robin is almost two years younger than I am. She lives here in Arlington with her husband and their blended family of 7 boys! (We also have a younger brother, Dave, who lives in Flower Mound, Texas with his wife Shelley and their 8 children, but this story is more about the Logan girls than it is about him - and I am sure he won't mind that a bit!)
Last Sunday evening at around 9:00, we received one of those phone calls that everyone with an older parent dreads. Our 74-year-old dad had suffered a heart attack and was in the Cardiovascular ICU in Tulsa. The Logan girls sprang into action and by 10:30 on Monday morning, we were standing at our dad's bedside in the hospital. We spent the next few days there caring for him and enjoying each other's company. At some point during the time we spent there, I observed the dynamics of our three- sister relationship and wondered how that might translate to my own three daughters down the road.
I'll start with myself. I am the organizer and the planner. That is my "gift" and that is what I bring to the table. The Logan family does not take a vacation or have a reunion that I haven't controlled planned to the last detail. During these events, a day won't go by without some sort of organized activity for the whole group or a beautifully presented meal (because we Logans are a traditionally sedentary bunch and left to our own devices we have been known to spend entire days sitting around in our jammies and accomplishing absolutely nothing). Thanks to my "gift" (insert my sisters rolling their eyes here) our vacations and get-togethers include scavenger hunts and hikes and river-rafting trips and elaborate New Year's Eve celebrations (which usually end at around 10-10:30 because we Logans are also not known for being able to stay awake very late). As fun as it is to have my role in the good times, it is even more essential to the family dynamic in the bad times. When my mom passed away, I remember the four of us walking into the funeral home to make the final arrangements and my siblings all took seats in the background and somehow shuffled me up to the front to sit across the desk from our funeral consultant. As the event-planner in the family, I was fully aware that the funeral fell completely into my job description and I reluctantly took on the task of leading in the planning of a fitting tribute for our mother. Last week, I was thrown into action again after receiving the phone call about our dad. Within an hour of getting the news, I had booked flights for all 3 of us, and even had Marty connecting in Dallas with the flight that Robin and I were traveling on. I had reserved the rental car, booked a hotel and mapped out everything. I asked Mike to call the hospital and get hotel recommendations and status updates that he could email out to the family. I emailed itineraries out to my sisters and all of our travel plans went off without a hitch.
Thinking ahead to a day hopefully far, far down the road, I can see Macy taking on this role in our family. She is the planner and organizer out of my 3 girls. She manages her own life, as busy as it is, and makes living in two houses look so simple and natural. She has a real eye for presentation and detail and she appreciates and notices those who go the extra mile to pull things off. Recently she took a picture of a nice spread of food one of her friend's dads had set out for them and texted it to me just because she knew I would also appreciate the effort on the presentation. She has been known to prepare a Power Point Presentation to convince her dad to send her to a theatre camp in New York for three weeks, complete with details on cost and travel requirements. Yep - she will be the one who will get everyone home in my time of need. No worries there.
My younger sister, Robin is the nurturer in the family. Nurturers, by definition, are quiet people who believe in order and who diligently care for those they love. This was so evident once we arrived at the hospital. Robin was the one to be hands-on with Dad. She was always fluffing his pillows, covering him up, searching for more blankets and pillows, making sure he always had water and that the bed was adjusted just right. She helped him when it was time to get up and around and she dimmed the lights when she thought he looked like he needed a little sleep. She is the warm and fuzzy one. She is the one who will make a casserole when you are sick and isn't afraid to get her hands dirty when needed. Nurturing is her gift and our family wouldn't be able to get along without her contributions.
In my family, Lily is my nurturer. Lily is perhaps the sweetest child I have ever known. She is constantly trying to take care of me and she is loving and caring and has such a pleasant disposition. I know that when the time comes and I need some special care, Lily will be the one to cuddle up with me and make sure I am comfortable and well-taken care of.
As I shared my observations with my sisters on our trip, Marty listened patiently as I explained my take on each of our contributions to the family. When I got to her, she could barely wait for me to sing her praises. I looked at her and I said, "And you, Marty, are the comic relief...the class clown!" She wasn't sure how to take this at first. She was offended, I could tell. She felt as if I was trivializing her contribution to the family, when in fact I wasn't at all. William Shakespeare was well-known for incorporating comic relief into his work. Comic relief represented a brief humorous escape from a serious drama or tragedy and was designed to give somewhat of a respite from the tension in an otherwise serious situation. This is exactly what Marty does for our family and the contribution is anything but insignificant!
After this point, because she was a little put-out by my label, Marty became determined to stand out as a nurturer herself, and that only added to the comedy as she raced around and tried to do things for Dad before Robin had a chance to. She suddenly became smothering and over-bearing and over-nurturing and it was hysterical (and completely proved my original point). Marty is probably the funniest person I know. She is quick-witted and will say just about anything. She livens up a room and livens up our entire family. I can't imagine sitting in a hospital room for days with my dad without her being there. She is the one who would fill in the awkward silence when Dad would accidentally flash all of us from under his indiscreet hospital gown. She is the one who kept the nurses coming back in to check on dad just because they could hear we were having a pretty good time. Most importantly, she kept Dad laughing too. He even laughed every time she tried to convince the new shift nurse that what he really wanted was a nice long sponge bath. We all laughed when we noticed she had rearranged all of the family portraits in Dad's house to highlight her own children. You see, picture placement in her house is like a competitive sport. There is a certain place where the spotlight shines down on the pictures and her kids have a constant battle over whose picture should be in the spotlight. Every time you walk by this group of pictures they are in a different order and each time a different child has somehow been moved into the coveted spotlight position. She also has a set of angels she puts out at Christmas. There are four little angels and each one holds a letter to spell out the word NOEL. It is not uncommon to walk by this grouping of angels and have to take a second look because the angels will spell out LEON. This happens in her household because she has fostered a fun and playful atmosphere for her kids. They have learned to not take things so seriously and to find the humor in simple and funny little traditions that they will always remember long after they leave home.
This probably goes without saying, but in my family, Chloe is our comic relief and our class clown. I can't imagine life without the laughter that Chloe brings to us on a daily basis. The most recent thing that comes to mind is our conversation over Thanksgiving dinner. As we were eating, someone suggested that we go around the table and say what we were thankful for. That's pretty routine, right? Well, not at my house! Somehow we got the idea to require everyone to name something specific for each letter of the alphabet. We started with "A" and went all the way through. Any attempts at being serious were soon squelched every time it was Chloe's turn and we had to hear her say that she was thankful for her "Homies" (her "H" word) or for "Illegal Immigrants" (her "I" word) and finally she was thankful for having "Swagga" (her "S" word). I promise you we have never laughed so hard at a meal before in our lives. I have no doubt that when my girls all come to care for me some day, Chloe will provide the much-needed comic relief, that will be so beneficial to my health and my spirits.
Dad is doing really well now. He is back at home and is getting stronger every day. I like to think that we all played a little part in his quick recovery. Our individual personalities and quirks were nothing too special or spectacular when viewed individually. However, when our talents and contributions were combined, the results were nothing short of amazing. It was simple really. We showed up. We gave him the special TLC that only his daughters could give him. Finally, as cliche' as it sounds, we gave him days and days of laughter, which truly is the best medicine of all.
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