It's hard to describe how sad I was to hear of Debbie Reynolds' passing a day after her daughter, Carrie Fisher died. To have that kind of love for your child, no matter what the age, is amazing. I can understand it because I have seen it.
When the paramedics pronounced my sister dead, I saw my mother literally crumple into herself. I know she was wishing it had been her, or probably any of the rest of us, instead of Robin. My sister was the one child out of five that lived with my parents her entire life. She and my mother were hang out partners. After my father died Robin would sit in my mother's chair while Marie sat in my father's "throne". That's where I would always find them when I would go to their house.
Don't get me wrong: their relationship wasn't perfect. They were different people and each wished the other was more accepting. But they were very close and had the kind of mother / daughter relationship I wished I could have had with Marie. But that's another story for another day...maybe.
I have done everything possible for my mother (still) since Robin's passing. But the one thing I can't be is Robin. And that's what she wants. Someone who can take her daughter's place by her side all the time. What breaks my heart is the fact that she doesn't really want to be in her house alone. Yet she doesn't want to move directly across the street into my house with me so I can take care of her. Truth be told, I know why she wants to stay there so I have stopped asking her to do something she so obviously doesn't want to do. I know in my heart of hearts that my mother wants to die in that house. Her husband died there, her daughter died there, so she wants the same for herself.
I don't have to like it, but I do have to accept it. And I will. I just hope that God is merciful to her and mends her broken heart. That's pretty much all I can ask for her. Amen.
Friday, December 30, 2016
Monday, December 5, 2016
Sissy Loves You
💖According to the coroner and paramedics, my sister died on December 6, 2015. But in my heart I know she died the night of December 5, 2015. But the medical personnel didn't "call" it until after midnight. Thankfully, the paramedics said that she never felt a thing: she just dropped to the floor in her room. Thank God for small favors...
So I'm using her computer to write a little tribute to her. She was totally computer illiterate but felt like she should get one and join the 21st century. But she didn't use it. I wanted to teach her about Facebook at least. However, she said she didn't want to get all involved with that. So I became friends with her school friends so she could keep in touch vicariously! And the funny thing was: her friends all thought I was her, and had changed my name after high school! So that was interesting trying to convince them that we were really 2 different people!
And we were totally different. She was a homebody: I loved the nightlife. She was an introvert: I tried hard to be an extrovert. I liked to tease her about liking to dress like "Garanimals": she teased me that I wouldn't wear a bathing suit because it was improper but would wear sheer clothing out to the club. I was married and divorced with kids: she didn't even date.
In spite of this we were best friends. We shared a love of movies, music and Jason Statham. She turned me on to the series "Roswell" which I thought would be lame but was phenomenal. I would go to her house every Saturday afternoon and we'd watch an episode, or 3. Then we tried to do the same with "Nip/Tuck", one of the nastiest shows on television (until "Sons of Anarchy" rolled around. But I digress). We watched a couple of seasons but then most of the sex scenes were so raunchy I had to bow out. It was a great series, quirky with great story lines but I just couldn't. I think she finished the series but she did it without me!
We used to always ask each other for favors, or would use the barter system. Like if she wanted something from the store, she'd offer to buy me something. Or if she wanted me to drive us to our hair appointment, I'd say yes but then I'd want to drive her big beautiful Nissan. We'd borrow money from each other, go shopping or to the movies together. And we always knew when one of us wanted something because the phone call would begin, "Who loves Sissy?" That's how we knew!
I would love to hear her say that one more time. But that's not going to happen until I see her again in the presence of the Lord. I'm just glad that I know she's there.
At the end of those phone calls we'd always say, "Sissy loves you". And to this day that is true. Miss you Robin. Sissy loves you. Thanks for the memories.
So I'm using her computer to write a little tribute to her. She was totally computer illiterate but felt like she should get one and join the 21st century. But she didn't use it. I wanted to teach her about Facebook at least. However, she said she didn't want to get all involved with that. So I became friends with her school friends so she could keep in touch vicariously! And the funny thing was: her friends all thought I was her, and had changed my name after high school! So that was interesting trying to convince them that we were really 2 different people!
And we were totally different. She was a homebody: I loved the nightlife. She was an introvert: I tried hard to be an extrovert. I liked to tease her about liking to dress like "Garanimals": she teased me that I wouldn't wear a bathing suit because it was improper but would wear sheer clothing out to the club. I was married and divorced with kids: she didn't even date.
In spite of this we were best friends. We shared a love of movies, music and Jason Statham. She turned me on to the series "Roswell" which I thought would be lame but was phenomenal. I would go to her house every Saturday afternoon and we'd watch an episode, or 3. Then we tried to do the same with "Nip/Tuck", one of the nastiest shows on television (until "Sons of Anarchy" rolled around. But I digress). We watched a couple of seasons but then most of the sex scenes were so raunchy I had to bow out. It was a great series, quirky with great story lines but I just couldn't. I think she finished the series but she did it without me!
We used to always ask each other for favors, or would use the barter system. Like if she wanted something from the store, she'd offer to buy me something. Or if she wanted me to drive us to our hair appointment, I'd say yes but then I'd want to drive her big beautiful Nissan. We'd borrow money from each other, go shopping or to the movies together. And we always knew when one of us wanted something because the phone call would begin, "Who loves Sissy?" That's how we knew!
I would love to hear her say that one more time. But that's not going to happen until I see her again in the presence of the Lord. I'm just glad that I know she's there.
At the end of those phone calls we'd always say, "Sissy loves you". And to this day that is true. Miss you Robin. Sissy loves you. Thanks for the memories.
Sunday, December 4, 2016
Tuesday, July 26, 2016
Happy Birthday Robin
Today my sister would have been 50 years old. I still can't believe it's been 7 months since she passed away...
Brie asked my friend Bonnie Miller, who is very crafty, to make a plaque for me for Christmas. When I opened the box I took one look and then quickly shut it. I saw the word "sisters" but knew I couldn't read it. I didn't think I'd ever be able to read it.
But since today is Robin's birthday, I took the plaque with me to work and left it in my car. Then after work I drove to the cemetery so I could open it with Robin and read it to her. That's exactly what I did..
The plaque was beautiful, and of course had a piano and music notes on it. It's purple: Robin's favorite color. And the poem Bonnie wrote was so beautiful...I cried and cried as I read it out loud. It said all the things I felt about my sister. Then I put it back in the box because it's painful for me, still. Maybe one day I'll be able to actually take it out and hang it up in the house I moved into that was right across the street from hers. Sadly, she never even got a chance to see the inside.
However, I don't want to end this on a sad note. Here's one of my favorite memories. Probably 28 years ago or so, when Freihofer's was still awesome, Robin and I used to go there whenever the mood struck us and buy a birthday sheet cake. Was it one of our birthdays? Nope! We'd just buy it and then eat it at her house! And when Marie told us we didn't need to eat all of that cake: then we'd just do it at my house so Marie didn't know. Ha ha Marie! And if they didn't have cake we'd get the 6-pack of frosted cupcakes with the real icing and eat those. Sooo delicious!
I wish I could get a cake or cupcakes in her honor but I can't. So I'll save the calories and think of the Heavenly celebration she had today; at least in my mortal mind.
Happy Birthday Robin. Sissy loves you. 💕
Thursday, June 9, 2016
It Could Only Happen To Me
When it comes to stuffed animals I like to pick out my own. I have to study their faces, gauge personality and think how it will get along with the others. But occasionally Schmoop-Dog likes to pick up one for me. So knowing I like dinosaurs, he picked up a pillow-pet dinosaur in his favorite color: brown.
I didn't mind the pillow-pet. I didn't name it or anything, but I had it on my bed. After awhile I decided since it was a pillow-pet, perhaps I should use it as a pillow. That's when the trouble started...
Apparently this pillow-pet did not like being used as a pillow. I would Velcro it together and it would be too high and bumpy to be comfortable. I would lay it flat and it would be too flat so I'd put it on top of my regular pillow. Because of the material it was made out of: it was too hot...You get the idea.
Then I started waking up and it would be gone. I'd find it behind my bed on the floor. I lost count of how many times I'd pick that thing up, put my head on it, and have it escape during the night. What the heck was wrong with that thing?
Finally one morning I woke up and began my morning ritual. I went into my bathroom and washed my hands. I looked up into the mirror and saw this red line in the middle of my forehead. Curious, I touched it. It was blood. There was a slit in the middle of my forehead: oozing blood. Where did it come from?? Not my nails: they weren't that thin. Not the Fuzzywigs: they didn't get near my face. The only other logical conclusion: the dinosaur did it! While I was sleeping that thing attacked me!
Once Brie stopped giggling she said, "That is ridiculous! Why would the pillow-pet attack you?"
"Because it hates me for sleeping on it and knows I don't like it! That's the only explanation! It does have teeth and claws!"
"Um...okay mom. But the teeth and claws are made out of cloth." She walked away but I could still hear her giggling. And that was pretty much the reaction I got from Schmoop-Dog too. So much for love and support!
When I went to bed that night I looked at the thing lying innocently on the bed. "You've got one more chance to act right or else you're out of here!" Yeah I showed it who's boss!
The next morning I woke up rested and refreshed. I got up, played with the puppies, set Lilly on the floor and got Pumpkin to put her on the floor too. I opened my room door and they ran out. I heard Brie in the bathroom and called out good morning. Then, when I turned to close my bedroom door it happened: I was attacked from behind! I screamed and turned around swinging. Brie came running out of the bathroom yelling, "What's wrong? What happened?" The Fuzzywigs were barking. I turned around and looked at the floor. There, in a heap, was the pillow-pet! "Did you see that? It attacked me!" That's right: that freaking thing attacked me from behind.
Brie laughed until she cried. "Mom, the Velcro attached itself to your sleep bonnet!" (Please disregard the fact that I may or may not, in fact, have a sleep bonnet.)
Then how did I do all that stuff in my room and never feel a thing? All the bending and lifting with the dogs? Nope: it was laying there innocently but I know what really happened. It jumped on my neck! It was banned from my room from that point on.
I wanted Schmoop to take it, but he said that we should give it another chance. Why: so it could finish the job?? He is relegated to the first floor landing with a pink tee shirt draped around it. Because Schmoop thought it might be lonely he bought it one of those big-eyed beanie babies to keep it company and domesticate it.
So even though it looks all cozy with its new best friend, I keep a wide berth. I'm not going to give it a chance to do anything else! So Schmoop, when it comes to stuffed animals for me: thanks but no thanks!
I didn't mind the pillow-pet. I didn't name it or anything, but I had it on my bed. After awhile I decided since it was a pillow-pet, perhaps I should use it as a pillow. That's when the trouble started...
Apparently this pillow-pet did not like being used as a pillow. I would Velcro it together and it would be too high and bumpy to be comfortable. I would lay it flat and it would be too flat so I'd put it on top of my regular pillow. Because of the material it was made out of: it was too hot...You get the idea.
Then I started waking up and it would be gone. I'd find it behind my bed on the floor. I lost count of how many times I'd pick that thing up, put my head on it, and have it escape during the night. What the heck was wrong with that thing?
Finally one morning I woke up and began my morning ritual. I went into my bathroom and washed my hands. I looked up into the mirror and saw this red line in the middle of my forehead. Curious, I touched it. It was blood. There was a slit in the middle of my forehead: oozing blood. Where did it come from?? Not my nails: they weren't that thin. Not the Fuzzywigs: they didn't get near my face. The only other logical conclusion: the dinosaur did it! While I was sleeping that thing attacked me!
Once Brie stopped giggling she said, "That is ridiculous! Why would the pillow-pet attack you?"
"Because it hates me for sleeping on it and knows I don't like it! That's the only explanation! It does have teeth and claws!"
"Um...okay mom. But the teeth and claws are made out of cloth." She walked away but I could still hear her giggling. And that was pretty much the reaction I got from Schmoop-Dog too. So much for love and support!
When I went to bed that night I looked at the thing lying innocently on the bed. "You've got one more chance to act right or else you're out of here!" Yeah I showed it who's boss!
The next morning I woke up rested and refreshed. I got up, played with the puppies, set Lilly on the floor and got Pumpkin to put her on the floor too. I opened my room door and they ran out. I heard Brie in the bathroom and called out good morning. Then, when I turned to close my bedroom door it happened: I was attacked from behind! I screamed and turned around swinging. Brie came running out of the bathroom yelling, "What's wrong? What happened?" The Fuzzywigs were barking. I turned around and looked at the floor. There, in a heap, was the pillow-pet! "Did you see that? It attacked me!" That's right: that freaking thing attacked me from behind.
Brie laughed until she cried. "Mom, the Velcro attached itself to your sleep bonnet!" (Please disregard the fact that I may or may not, in fact, have a sleep bonnet.)
Then how did I do all that stuff in my room and never feel a thing? All the bending and lifting with the dogs? Nope: it was laying there innocently but I know what really happened. It jumped on my neck! It was banned from my room from that point on.
I wanted Schmoop to take it, but he said that we should give it another chance. Why: so it could finish the job?? He is relegated to the first floor landing with a pink tee shirt draped around it. Because Schmoop thought it might be lonely he bought it one of those big-eyed beanie babies to keep it company and domesticate it.
So even though it looks all cozy with its new best friend, I keep a wide berth. I'm not going to give it a chance to do anything else! So Schmoop, when it comes to stuffed animals for me: thanks but no thanks!
Tuesday, April 12, 2016
The Power of a Smile
I was on my way to work this morning when I realized I needed to stop for gas. As I was pulling into my favorite Sunoco station the song "Hello" by Adele came on the radio. Adele 25 was the last CD my sister bought, so whenever I hear that song it makes me think she's saying hello to me. But since it was a dreary, gray and rainy morning, it made me sad. I got out of the car and began pumping gas: gazing up at the gray sky and wishing I could feel...different.
As I was nearing the amount of gas I wanted to purchase, I happened to glance towards the window of the convenience store. One of the employees was by the window and looked out. When she saw me, she smiled and waved. I smiled and waved back...and it was transforming. That simple gesture from that woman made me feel brighter and almost like my old self.
It's amazing what a smile can do. I'm so thankful for that woman because she changed my entire outlook on the day without even knowing it!
The next time I'm at that Sunoco station I'm going to go in and tell her what she did for me. And I will try to do the same for others. You never know what might be going on in someone else's life. But one thing I'm sure of: a smile can certainly help. It helped me...
As I was nearing the amount of gas I wanted to purchase, I happened to glance towards the window of the convenience store. One of the employees was by the window and looked out. When she saw me, she smiled and waved. I smiled and waved back...and it was transforming. That simple gesture from that woman made me feel brighter and almost like my old self.
It's amazing what a smile can do. I'm so thankful for that woman because she changed my entire outlook on the day without even knowing it!
The next time I'm at that Sunoco station I'm going to go in and tell her what she did for me. And I will try to do the same for others. You never know what might be going on in someone else's life. But one thing I'm sure of: a smile can certainly help. It helped me...
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