God is Heavenly-Minded

My niece, Lesli, once wrote a blog about sisters and said "My Mom was 14 when her only sister was born, but they were so close. She adored her baby sister in the end - and at the end of her life, she was the one my Mom asked for. They never had to stand before a judge and say 'For better or worse, till everything else we do part...' It was just the way it was."

My sister, Bonnie Jean, died almost four years ago in the summer of 2007.  She was the oldest of seven children, and I am the youngest.  Even though we were at "opposite ends of the birth order" of the Leavitt children, we loved each other deeply.


Bonnie Jean Leavitt - 16 1/2
Susan Brigham Leavitt - 2 1/2
Portchester, NY

My very first airplane ride, actually, was at the age of 14, when I flew from our home in Denver, Colorado, to Lincoln, Nebraska, where Jean lived with her husband and three children.  The next summer introduced the second "annual visit" where I was met Jean's newest child, Mal, who had been born that spring. Yearly trips became a tradition, where I would reconnect with my sister and her family and they with me. 

My mind floods with precious memories now, as I recall glimpses of many visits and vacations we shared together.  Jean and I remained close over the years, as life circumstances happened - marriages, births of my two precious sons Eric and Nathan, family moves, our parents' deaths, cancer, separation, divorce, children's issues, adoption.  My sister established a Saturday tradition of calling long-distance, and during those calls we would chat about our weeks and family happenings.

Over the years, Jean and I would "analyze" our family of origin, playing the "armchair quarterback" role of diagnosing dilemmas or comparing opinions of "family" from our unique vantage points - Jean as the "firstborn" or me as the "baby of the family."  Jean and I were so different yet so alike in many ways.

We spoke at times about another sister who neither of us had been given the opportunity to know.  Twelve years after Jean's birth, and two years before my birth, another daughter had been born to Mom and Dad.  This little baby girl was given the name "Susan Baxter Leavitt" (I am Susan Brigham Leavitt) and she was born with severe spina bifida.  Within two weeks of her birth, Susan Baxter died and was carried in a shoebox-sized casket on my mother's lap to a cemetery for her funeral and burial.  Jean and I had melancholy moments where we talked about the sister we never knew.  I had told Jean about the conversation where our Mom confided all the details of Susan Baxter's birth and death, and the intense sorrow it had left upon Mom's life.


Bonnie Jean and Susie - Tampa, Florida - 1984

The years sped by as life marched on - and events came and went.  My sister and I enjoyed good times together with pleasant memories, and we had some very challenging times together that left us with painful memories.  Our bonds of sisterhood were stretched, rebounded, and stretched again. 

One day allmost four years ago, Jean called to announce that she had cancer and that it was untreatable, fast-growing, and terminal.  The words were short: The resulting shock was a shroud.  "I love you, Jean," I said through tears, with the decision to go visit her one last time.

Within two weeks, I travelled across the country with my three daughters (18 years old and 1-year-old twins).  On that emotional visit, Jean and I spoke about serious matters, laughed a bit, and cried a lot.
In keeping with the "prognosis," my sister, Jean, passed from this life within seven weeks of her cancer confirmation.  I travelled back again for her memorial service.  Many more tears - many more memories.

Engraved in my memory now is something that happened after returning home from Jean's memorial service.  One day while driving, a thought flashed into my mind.  It was as if this event were on a massive video screen before me.  I pictured Jean in Heaven - with no more pain of any kind - living the heavenly life we all long to live - peacefully and joy-filled.  Yet, followed by that, a second image came, and it took my breath away.  I exclaimed, "Jean's holding that baby! She's holding her sister!"  At that moment, not only was I sure that Jean was at peace - but there was also an added blessing to picture Jean holding her baby sister, Susan Baxter, who had long ago died.  My nurturing, "more-like-a-mother" sister, Jean, was getting to know a brand new sister.

Isn't this just like you, God, to show me this awesome picture of my sister, Bonnie Jean, cradling Susan Baxter in her arms, in your glorious Heaven! The sweet beauty of this picture soothes me.

But our citizenship is in heaven.

And we eagerly await a Savior from there,

the Lord Jesus Christ, who, by the power that enables him

to bring everything under his control,

and will transform our lowly bodies

so that they will be like his glorious body.  

Philippians 3:20-21

To my sisters - Bonnie Jean and Susan Baxter - with love and longing - until we meet again - forever -

Susie