My younger sister, Sandy, is the first of "my fearless four" from my birth family who collectively and individually have given me a greater respect for women. Knowing what I now know of these women has answered questions about what traits are nature verses nurture in my own character, and how that is being passed on to my own daughter. But more than that, they have each shown me through by example how exceptional women can be.
Sandy brought me to tears of joy and sorrow as I neared fifty with an act of selflessness that changed my life and made me whole in a way I had never been. It was through her decision to do what was right at a time when feeling the devastation of a great betrayal by her mother, that I, with both my adopted parents deceased and with no brothers or sisters, gained a family.
Sandy never married. The person closest to her throughout her life was her mother, my birth mother, Bea. They lived together and shared many interests, including a love for nature and animals. It was Sandy who received the second of two registered letters which I wrote a year apart to my birth mother. The first letter had been a thank you to my mother for giving me life and informing her that she had a beautiful sixteen-year-old granddaughter, Cara. It had been brief, with pictures of Cara growing up enclosed. I invited her to respond while assuring her that I would respect her privacy and would not press for a relationship if she chose not to respond. After having waited a full year with no response, I wrote her again. This time I stated that I respected her right to privacy, but hoped that she would take time to check off on the enclosed self-addressed card any of the medical concerns I had listed. I explained I needed this information so I could better provide for the health of myself and my daughter. It was this letter that Sandy opened, Bea having died several months earlier. Sandy immediately wrote to me demanding proof. When she received a copy of my original birth certificate with her mother's signature, she in turn sent me a letter. That letter was an act of integrity and selflessness. In it she explained that she had never known of my existence and that she would need time to come to terms with it. However, she continued, she had told our brother, Joe, about me. He in turn had told his two sons that they had another aunt. Within six months I had met and fallen in love with my brother, sister-in-law Kat, and two nephews, Chris and Matt.
Sandy and I began to correspond. A little more than a year later we met and began to grow close. Unfortunately, on April 9, 2003, Sandy died, leaving me mourning not only the sister whose integrity had provided me with one of the greatest gifts of my life, but also mourning all the time we never had together. However, I prefer to celebrate Sandy's life and the lives of the three women whose wonderful character traits became revealed to me through Sandy doing what she believed was right, though painful.
I learned of my grandmother, Clara, for whom I am named in an anagram. Clara, came over from Sweden at sixteen as a lady's companion and maid. She worked hard until she had brought all her brothers over. The youngest of her siblings she went back to Sweden to get. Only due to an accident in Stockholm, did they miss their steerage passage on the Titanic. Once all the brothers were here and safe, Clara gave up her work as a maid and seamstress. She boarded a train and traveled to California alone to see America, unheard of at that time in pre-1920's America. Along the way, She would get of the train when she ran out of money and take a job as a seamstress. Then, she would continue on. On her return trip to rejoin her brothers, she went to work for an Italian tailor in Wichita, whom she fell in love with and married.
My birth mother Bea inherited the same sense of independence and responsibility to help others. She traveled from Kentucky to Greenwich Village, where she became a supporter of African American civil rights long before it was politically correct. Several years ago my brother gave me letters Bea had written to our uncle about the unfair treatment of African Americans in this country. She was at the time unwed, poor and secretly pregnant with me. Yet, there is no trace of self-pity in her letters, only compassion for the plight of others. Later, she used her artistic skills to be the provider for my brother and sister and her husband.
The fourth fearless woman from my family is my sister-in-law, Kat. She is a talented artist, possessed of a unique perspective and wry humor that were forged through the challenges of severe hearing impairment since childhood. Kat, who welcomed me with open arms, is the only one of my fearless four who is living. She is an activist for hearing-impaired rights who successfully lobbied for the establishment of a statewide system of phone assistance for the hearing impaired in Kentucky. Long before raising her two sons with my brother, Kat helped to raise her two youngest siblings while only a child, herself. She is dynamic, independent, and warmhearted, giving all who come in contact with her the gift of her love and appreciation for the blessings of life. There is little room for self-pity in her busy schedule, which is complicated by the daily challenges that face severely hearing impaired people. Her one regret is that she cannot truly hear the music of her oldest son, who wants to be a composer. She can only hear the amplified distortions that come through her hearing aids. It is one of life's ironies. She has accepted it with grace. And like so many other fearless women, she has used her life's ironies to steel herself for challenges where she can make a difference.
I am grateful for Sandy, Clara, Bea and Kat. Their examples, and those of all the fearless women each of us experience in our lives, build foundations for future action that helps us learn to overcome adversity and reach out to others in kindness. We are all blessed with wonderful women through nurture and through nature.
I see pieces of my fearless four in my daughter, Cara. She is independent minded, guided by her conscience. She has from her toddler days expressed compassion for others far beyond her years. Twenty-four months ago she left a film development job at Rockefeller Center to enter graduate studies in school psychology. Like her great grandmother, she is an adventurer, having traveled around the world with little more than a backpack. Like her grandmother and aunt, she is an animal lover/rescuer and has mostly chosen to do what is right rather than easy in many peer group situations. Like my sister-in-law she is an advocate of those in need, committing herself to a career working to help enable children to achieve their full potentials. I know my fearless four will live on through the nurturing acts of my daughter. And part of me hopes - perhaps at times believes -- that somewhere, if there is life after death, the three fearless souls of Sandy, Clara and Bea are smiling, sensing that the flow of love and integrity that anchored their lives, continues forward in this remarkable young woman that each of us is connected to.