My husband playing Christmas music in February inspired me to think of secrets we feel dark about, that end up unfolding toward lightness, and good, so that you finally long to share them.
He'd been reaching for a Beatles CD and accidentally dropped Lauren Daigle's Christmas compilation, which spilled onto the floor and having to know if he scratched it, he decided to play it.
We love that CD, and hearing it brought me to think of the niece who recommended it to me a few years ago, and thus to a secret I kept long ago, in regard to her mother, my sister Cindy.
Cindy and I were three years apart. When I was little and timid, she was a powerful force of vibrant personality and strong will. Sometimes she was so hard on me I made inner promises to myself I would NEVER speak to her again, and I MEANT it!
And then she would ask me to join her "midnight club," where just she and I would get up at midnight, meet in a (big) closet central of the house, and discuss future doings for our club. (We actually did that once, and having nothing to really plan, quickly went back to bed).
You know how it goes, with siblings. One day it might be laying down your life (she once pulled me onto her shoulders in the ocean, when we somehow lost our footing and found ourselves gasping for air, inciting an actual rescue by two swimmers nearby) and the next day it might be all-out estrangement.
When I was a freshman in high school, she was a senior. A whole lot of life had passed between us by then, for better or worse. I now considered her my very cool big sister, and I almost burst with pride and happiness, when her friends would start conversations with me, mentioning favorable things Cindy had said to them about me.
I almost felt "cool" too.
Apparently, I was SO cool and appeared to be so close to Cindy, that one friend in particular asked me one day, "What do you think of Cindy getting married already?"
What?? I knew nothing of this. But the friend (hardly taking pause at my evident surprise) went on to inform me that when Cindy turned 18 in 3 weeks, she and her boyfriend were eloping.
Cindy hadn't told me because Cindy feared that even if I kept the secret, my loyalties would be torn, between her and my mom, between what might be right and what might be wrong, between what might turn out good for her and what might turn out to be disaster for her.
I knew for sure telling this secret would be disastrous to hers and my relationship, our closeness. I knew my mother would be enraged and would do everything in her power to stop Cindy from doing this, and so then THEIR relationship would be destroyed. And as the stubborn, willful force from whom Cindy was born, it seemed to me my mother had the power to win.
Don't ask me to do the math but I think I was fourteen, 15 at most. This was a burden I didn't want; it was a responsibility I didn't have the maturity to even begin to know how to "unload."
So I did nothing. I said nothing. In 3 weeks I said nothing and Cindy married, informed my mother, and their relationship did seem destroyed. And I didn't have closeness with Cindy either because she no longer lived under our roof and was not free to visit or contact us.
She did call me secretly, anyway. For a few months she phoned me intermittently, always trying to get a "feel" if Mom had calmed down, if she was softening. When I finally (on wobbly legs) brought up to Mom that Cindy had asked if there was any possibility she could come visit, she answered, "I guess."
That was my mom's way of expressing openness, and so the healing began.
Cindy and her husband had two beautiful babies soon in a row, but the marriage didn't last.
But the kids lasted, you know? They are beautiful people with beautiful souls, and my goodness, if you could see the beautiful children that came when THEY had children!! It goes on, the beauty. The more life, the more stories, the more love, the more fullness of family going forward.
I felt guilt about that secret; my mother never knew what I knew when I knew it. She might have laid blame on me! But the awe and admiration she often expressed toward Cindy's kids and grandkids eventually convinced me there was no "blame" to take; it had all in time turned for good.
Sharing a secret is your confidence in someone, or a limited few. I've since shared this secret with (a couple of) my other siblings, but not with Cindy's kids and grandkids. They will now know! But I don't think they will spend precious time wondering "What if our grandma somehow stopped our family from coming to be?"
That's not how fate works. What will be, will be.
But if we know a little bit more in our history as to how things came to pass, that too adds fullness to a life. We can take stock of what might have been, what might NOT have been.
I held a secret, and it seemed dark. I'm so glad it unfolded toward lightness and good, and although it's very personal to me, I'm happy to finally this day, long to share it.
It's done!!
