Granted, I have a very strong recall ability only slightly obscured when trauma is a part of the memory.
She was born as a sweet, beautiful blue eyed baby with soft fuzzy blonde hair ~ a lot of hair! I looked in her crib, into her wide opened eyes. I felt a deep responsibility toward her, although I was not much older than she was.
Starting when she was just 4 weeks old, I would hold her so my mother could get things "done" around the house. It was a joy for me to hold her, play with her, listen to her coos, her sweet baby laughter.
As she grew into a toddler, my father decided that she was old enough to take a whipping from him, using his thick leather belt.
Often, I would step in front, to take her beatings for her.
She was only 2 years old!
I protected her. We shared a bedroom as well as a clothes dresser, closet and a bed. We shared this with our older sister, except she had her own bed, until our sister moved out, came back for about a year, then, left permanently after she was married.
She and I fought, played Barbies, went trick or treating together.
When my mother had morning sickness with 1 pregnancy that miscarried, then our younger brother, I took her to school with me. As I went through the day, at school, I carried her on my back, through the school, when she became tired.
When my parents didn't like the way things were going with the first guy I seriously dated, she was sent along as a "chaperone."
She was easily bribed with M&M's so we could go to a park & make out while she ate her candy in my boyfriends' car. Shhhh!
As time went on, I knew I needed to get out, spread my wings to fly out into the world, on my own.
Feeling a bit of trepidation at leaving her, I had to start to make a life for myself. Also, she and I began to clash as the age gap between us was causing friction, I had to leave!
When I left my parents home to serve in the United States Air Force, I wrote to her when I could. There was very little time during BMT.
I was still a teenager, when I went back to Michigan on leave after military training & before going on to my first assignment. I was able to see my family, my parents home, the dynamics of the various familial relationships.
I was different.
Everyone at home was still the same.
I wanted to go out with friends, go to a movie, everything I had been restricted from doing for the last 6 months.
She wanted me to play Barbies with her, like we used to. She was more of a child than I was, yet, I was still basically a child. I went out with friends instead of playing Barbies with my sister.
Upon arriving at Hickam AFB, Hawai'i, there was a flurry of training, moving, adjusting, working. There was also a bit of going to the beaches & exploring the beautiful island of O'a'hu, that was now, home.
Time moved me on, like a river, flowing forward.
As she grew into her tumultuous teen years, she became too much for my parents to handle. There was a lot more to it, yet, the end result was that she was sent to live with me.
I had been married a couple years, had a 5 month old baby. Still, the feeling of responsibility for her, was still with me.
In time, as a 16 year old, out of control, she was too much for me to handle.
She was sent to live with another family, eventually, returning to Michigan. I lost track of her in the confusion.
10 years passed by. I was living in Germany, getting ready for a military move to Howard AFB, Republic of Panama', Central America. The move to Panama' was a warm relief from the cold.
We moved from one dwelling to the next a few times before finally settling in, in a huge house on Howard AFB.
One day, the phone rang, it was an operator asking me to accept charges from my sister.
I took the call.
We got back in touch with each other, exchanging letters, cards, speaking on the phone.
Whatever had transpired over the years. The painful episodes of her outbursts, her wild behavior, her hurtful words. I still loved her.
Peeps! This is only my own personal moral code, for me. I have never been a shack up honey, I doubt I could ever do it.
If others do this, it's their choice, I can only choose for myself.
When my sister told me she had been shacking up with a guy for the past 7 years, it broke my heart for her.
Both she and her shack up guy wanted to get married, they were not quite sure how to go about it.
They wanted it to be nice.
When she told me this, I told her that if she wanted to get married, I would bring my family, 4 kiddos & a spouse, from Panama, Central America to Utah, USA, to make her wedding a very nice one.
She talked it over with her guy, he proposed soon after that in such a touching, beautiful way! He had called a radio station, asked them to play, Waiting For a Girl Like You by Foreigner. He waited for the song to play on his radio. He knew sign language, so as the song played, he used ASL to ask her to marry him. He re-enacted this for myself & my family when we arrived in Utah.
He asked her, with a ring and the date.
She said "Yes"!!
At this time, I started the plan to get my family to Utah. It was a monumental task! It would be worth it to see my sis married.
In truth?
They were 2 imperfect people with mental problems, physical problems, financial problems.
Their love for each other was perfect & pure.
It has been rare when I have seen 2 people who loved each other as much as my sister and this guy loved each other, on that day.
I made her bridal veil and her cake. Our Aunt Yvonne had sent a wedding cake topper. Her friends made her dress which was basically, a huge white tent with sleeves and a neck opening. My sister was 4'11", 520 lbs. The man she married loved her with all his heart as much as she loved him.
It was so obvious!
Obesity seems to be part of my family genetics. I fight it!!!!
I went back to Panama', my sister and her husband were happy!
Myself & my family moved to Colorado from Panama'.
She was only increasing in size with time. Her doctor wanted to try a procedure with her to possibly help her in her physical struggles.
That's how she was consulted on this "procedure".
I KNEW they were using her as a guinea pig. After speaking to my sister about this "procedure", later on that night, I prayed about it to receive guidance as to what to say to her.
As a very spiritual person, often, I receive messages, promptings.
Angels came to me to tell me to caution my sister to NOT have this medical procedure. When I phoned her to tell her what I had received, from angels, to caution her, not to allow the doctors to do this, she was unconvinced.
The procedure was scheduled for the next day.
A group of ladies I knew, in Colorado, had found out that my birthday had been a week earlier. They planned a surprise birthday party for me on the day of my sisters' procedure.
On the day of my sisters procedure, which was also the day of the "surprise party", my second oldest daughter had misbehaved at a girls summer camp, broken the rules. I had to drive out to the girls camp to bring her home. I didn't like their stupid rules, either!
Arriving home, I received a phone call from one of the "Birthday Ladies" with a suspicious invitation to come to her house to "help" her. I knew what this was!
The next phone call was from my sisters husband.
My sisters husband told me to sit down. Tearfully, he told me that my sister had passed on just an hour ago...…….
I was in shock! An uncontrolled, high pitched wail ,from deep inside me, burst from my diaphragm, that scared our Doberman and brought my kiddos running, was all I could do.
I dropped the phone in shock, pain, horror.
Knowing that I had to go to Utah, to do the last thing I could for my sister, I hurried up to make airline reservations.
The funeral was beautiful, the hall was packed with so many people who had loved my sister. Our older sister, her husband (I think he was there?), our older brother, his wife, and our dad were all there. They had driven as fast as they could, from Michigan to Utah.
Due to some misunderstandings that went unaddressed, unsolved over the years, a pain filled rift formed between myself and many members of my immediate family. The result was the contempt that Daddy felt toward me.
Daddy was a bitter man. He held grudges like a professional grudge holder. As much as I wanted a reconciliation, when faced with my sisters death, Daddy was not going to have it.
After the funeral, the burial, none of us had much appetite for the funeral dinner which followed. I went back to the hotel where my older sister, her hubby(?), our Daddy, brother & his wife were staying.
Before they all started the drive back to Michigan, I went to my Daddy.
Facing him with his eyes averting mine, I opened my arms to him, looked straight at him, said,
"Daddy? Can I please hug you?"
His eyes were steel grey, he looked up with a look of pure hatred.
Then, he snarled,
"You can just fucking go to hell!"
This was so typical of my Daddy, it barely phased me.
Back at him, I said,
"Well, I guess you'll get there before I will."
So, my little sis had passed on, buried and Daddy hated me. Cool.
He died a few years after she did. Both of my parents had very unhealthy habits. Their eating habits were atrocious. They were both heavy smokers, Daddy was a raging alcoholic for most of his life. They tore away at each other for 30 years with frequent,violent arguments.
My Mother was only 58 when she died. She was the youngest of herself & her 4 sisters. The last one born, the first to die.
Way too young to die.
The aftermath of this event was that I felt like I had failed. I loved my little sister so much, as much as I loved her, I couldn't save her.
Not this time.
I still love her.
Every year, on her birthday, I remember her.
Today, I received an email from the cemetery, where she is buried, with a photo of her grave stone.
Merry Christmas, your sister is still dead.
Happy New Year, she's in a better place!
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