Being the youngest of four shaped me a lot growing up. I was the one who was the little clown, the Cooper family mascot, the independent little fire-ball that thought she was so cute… and usually I got away with whatever mischief I had been up to. Much to the chagrin of my siblings.
But one thing I was–that annoyed me then–was protected by my siblings. If somebody said something mean to me at school? I had at least one built in bodyguard who stood up for me. After all, they could tease me because I was theirs. To this day, I cringe when I think of the scolding Roy Yum got for saying something mean to me when I was in the 3rd grade.
As I grew up, my siblings made my life “miserable”… and so much fun at the same time. Though miserable is a strong word for typical sibling games, jokes, and taunts. Like the time Lee woke me up at 11:30 PM and told me it was time to get ready for school…. so I did. While she looked on laughing. Now we all laugh about it. Really. We do.
Having been the youngest and the one most protected, it’s been hard to have a lonely diagnosis like MS. My brother and sisters always kept the monsters away. They walked between me and the unknown for so much of my life that now that I am on a path that I have to walk alone, it’s scary.
But then my sister texts me to tell me how brave I have been through this so far and that she is proud of me. Bringing me a bag at the hospital that had everything I asked for and more. Just in case. And in true Michele fashion, she takes her job of making me laugh seriously. Her husband Jason and I get lots of laughs at some of the things she does….
And my brother does research and sends me encouragement of prayers from him and his warrior of a wife, tells me MS success stories, and reminds me to find help for the emotional hurts that are there, but undiscovered yet. Doing what Jamie does best–thinking and problem solving for those he loves.
And my other sister who FaceTimed with me from the hospital because 1) she was quarantined because of her recent trip to London, and 2) they weren’t allowing visitors. She still checks in so frequently. She and her husband feed me so that I can try to be healthy. It is definitely not her grilled chicken and squash that I need to cut out. Lee and Pat inherited a surrogate daughter when I came to college so some habits die hard.
In all these ways–and so many more, they step between me and my fear. They take care of their little sister. There are no monsters this time, real life is scary enough. But they pray for me. They tell me they wish this wasn’t real. They love me with their own unique love languages. They hurt for me.
They are God’s first line of grace when I need it so deeply.
MS Joy 
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