From Ice Skating to Lifesaving: A Sister’s Impact on My Life

As I write this on the eve of Thanksgiving 2024, I find myself thinking about the significance of this holiday that is dedicated to gratitude, family, friends, and cherished memories. This year is different for me and my family. It’s the first Thanksgiving without my sister, Traci. Her absence reminds me of how short life can be.

Being the youngest, Traci was my closest sibling, she was six years older than me, and thanks to my parents we shared many memories. One of the oldest was when she “taught” me to ice skate at Winterhurst. Her unique teaching method was to simply ignore me. Despite her strong objections, my parents made her take me with her every weekend to the rink. Every trip was the same; First, she would tie my skates so tightly they numbed my feet, then she would tell me to avoid her and her friends. At the break, she would buy me popcorn and a pop, and re-tie my skates. Years later, whenever I would remind her about her teaching methods, she’d retort, “Look at what a great teacher I was, you turned out to be a fantastic skater!”

I cannot post about Traci without telling you how she saved my life. When I got sick with Guillain-Barré Syndrome she was sent again by my mother to check in on me. When she arrived, she realized that something was seriously wrong. She insisted that we go back to the ER. I explained that I had been there 2 times already, but she insisted. When they were going to send me home again without a real diagnosis, she raised holy hell, reaching out to our family doctor, who showed up and took charge of my case.

He later admitted in all of his years he only had one other case of GBS, and that one did not make it. So since 1994, I’ve had to put up with her constant reminders of how she saved my life. Any time she needed a favor it always started with, “Den, remember when I saved your life…” I never thought I would say this, but I will miss those calls. I am not sure if it’s my age or the loss of my sister, but it’s a stark reminder that time marches on, as does life, but something is different. Traci was a lot like our mom. At her funeral, many of her high school and college friends told me that Traci was always the ‘cruise director’ organizing lunches, parties, and trips just like my mom. Her passing makes me realize how many family events have gone on to the family history books. The way my family was, is not recognizable today and it bothers me that my children will not know my family like I did. A few years ago, my sister Mame was going through some old clothes and found a T-shirt that Traci had printed for the Rath Family Strawberry Festival. That’s correct. My family celebrated strawberries, which is odd seeing none of us are strawberry farmers. Strawberry season was just an excuse to have a party. I don’t know why, maybe it was because my parents, aunts, & uncles were all part of the greatest generation and lost so many friends in World War II, but any reason to have a get-together was a good reason. We had a reunion/party the day after Traci’s wedding, that’s correct, my mom threw a party, on the day after a party before all of my relatives flew off home. This was not a continuation of the reception where we partied through the night. Everyone went to bed, got up, and was at the house by 2 pm the next afternoon. Next thing you know, our house was overflowing with people, we had to borrow chairs from the neighbors just so everyone had a place to sit. This was not just my mom, my dad also had this socializing gene. According to my uncle Jack, when my dad found out that Jack was going to be passing through Guam during World War II, he decided to throw him a 21st birthday party. According to Uncle Jack, it was one hell of a party. The funny thing is I don’t think it was even close to his birthday. This gene was passed on to all of my siblings. The basement of my family home on Harley was the site of many parties for my older brothers. One of the most talked about parties was my brother Tom’s annual Christmas Eve bash. It was ’71 or ’72 and The West Tech marching band showed up. What makes this funnier, is that no one in my family went to school at West Tech. Introducing my wife Jen to my family was a lot of fun. During one of our first Christmases together, we headed to my parents’ house for dinner. After dinner, my mom announced that we were having a family sing-along, handing out song lyrics as my sister Mame got out her guitar. There we were, sitting in the family room singing Christmas carols. Jen sat there, wide-eyed, repeatedly glancing at my brother-in-law Don, who simply nodded as if to say, “Yup, they do this.”

Our family is close-knit, filled with sing-alongs and house parties, but also the occasional argument just like any other family. However, our parents always reminded us that you only get one family, instilling the importance of unity. Even after their passing, we remain a tight bunch, often gathering for lunches, and always capturing the moment with a group photo, thanks to Traci.

I remind my kids that some friends they make in primary and high school may stick around for years. It takes effort, and everyone is busy, but how long does it take to send a Christmas card or make a quick call to say hello? Over my career, I’ve seen many families drift apart after the parents pass away, often due to being “too busy” or minor disagreements, only reuniting at funerals and weddings.

My sister Traci’s death was out of the blue. She came home from work and was sitting in her chair talking with her husband about the day, slumped in her chair mid-sentence and was gone. As we approach this season of gratitude, I encourage you to reach out to family or old friends and check in on someone who might be all alone. Life’s unpredictability makes these connections all the more precious

Thank you for being part of my extended family. Your support and trust mean the world to me. I hope that Santa is good to you!

Thank You!