The Fix

I talked to my sister last night. I won't go into detail but suffice it to say she was having a hard day. In the course of our conversation I was telling her that if we all walked the earth with a neon sign over our heads with our essence distilled, her sign would read "I'll fix it". For as long as I can remember my sister has had a deep compulsion to enter where few would dare to tread.  She is fearless about grabbing the reins when anyone else she loves is in trouble and is all about finding a solution, tackling the sore spot head on and intervening where necessary to gently or not so gently, as the situation warrants, fix whatever problem or conundrum needs to be addressed. I know sometimes I have been less than gracious about these offers to help, but more often than not secretly grateful. Still sometimes the load she carries is heavier than most and she has a tenacity that keeps her going long after many would simply pack up their chips and go home. She rarely - and I do mean rarely - shows any sign of weakness, any sign that there are days when it is simply weighing too heavily on her small shoulders. I also know in my heart that I am part of that weight she currently carries. I can't help but admit there is some part of me that is so grateful that she shares such a moment with me - not because I want to see her in pain but because she shares such things so infrequently that being the one to try and soothe and commiserate feels like some kind of progress - a necessary part of what it means to love somebody.