Bathtime

Recently, when I was drawing a bath for my daughter, Faith, and hearing her yell, "It's too hot mom!".....it reminded me of my lil' sis, Chrissy, and how I used to get a bath ready for her.  In fact, she was probably around the same age as Faith is now when I use to do this for her.  Back then, though, I wasn't as patient when Chrissy would yell the same thing, and then shortly after I would add more cold water, and then she would yell, "It's too cold!"  

As kids, I was probably 10 or 11 years old and Chrissy would have been 6 or 7.  We used to audio tape events around the house with our cassette player, and I think I still have that particular cassette where I am drawing a bath for her.  I would start the water and leave the bathroom while Chrissy would take off her clothes, and you could hear me rummaging about the house, and then you can hear Chrissy's voice yelling for me again.  I can sense the agitation in my voice as she continues calling me......only to let me know the first time that the water is too cold.  My foot steps pounding across the kitchen floor as I turn on more hot water.  I know I was busy doing other house chores which I didn't want to do, and now I had to do this chore for my little sister.  She would call me yet again when the water would become too hot.  It was a back and forth game that I hated then, and now I wish it was possible to do it again for her.  She grew to cherish her bath time into adulthood.  That was her way of releasing the stress of the day.  Children in bed, warm bubbly bath drawn, and there was my sister sinking into her hot bath.  During the time nearing her death, it was bath time again.  The nurse's aide would bathe her ever so gently, and sometimes Chrissy wanted me beside her so that I could see the "proper' way to bathe her.  "You never know when you may need to do this for me," she would tell me.  My heart was aching as she had allowed her power to be given to another, not by choice, but by necessity.  There were times I would scream out in anger to God telling him this wasn't right, He made a mistake, it's not her turn.....this shouldn't be.  He is God and I am me, and I will never understand, but I pray that I will or atleast accept what is to be.

Baths are my saving grace now as I put my worries aside and sink into a warm/hot bubbly bath where I can relax, stare into the flames of the candles, look up at the sky light, watch the stars and clear my mind......sometimes with a glass of wine, always thinking of her and her baths.  I not only think of her, but I am reminded of my blessings and the time I did have with her.  I'll never draw a bath and not think of her.....my sissy and her bathtime.

Lord, you are a compassionate and caring Father.  Thank you for nurturing my development step by step and giving me understanding just as I need it.  Help me to be as patient as you are with my simple and imperfect attempts at gaining maturity.