It is ten days until the dreaded 23rd. And being I can't seem to get her out of my mind, I thought I would talk a bit about her.
She was anything but ordinary. There was power in her hopes and dreams, passion in her many fandoms. My baby sister never merely followed fads, fashion or trends. If she was a fan or an enthusiast, she not only put her devotion into whatever it was, she was also a fan for life. Together, we had the Beatles, The Nightmare Movies, Futurama, Star Trek, and many more shows, movies, and artists in common. She also was a big fan of soap operas, and had encyclopedic knowledge of I Dream Of Jeannie, The Sims, Nancy Drew, Buffy The Vampire Slayer, and Reba McEntire. And I am just broaching the surface here. So that's number one, she was a loyal fan who stayed true to what she loved. Secondly, she always stood up for the people she cared for. I remember several times in my life when she most certainly had my back. My little sister, having been born premature, was a woman small in stature, but you didn't want to mess with the people she loved. There were a couple times when I worried she might get herself in trouble by making a few things well known to some people who had hurt me. I felt worried, but I also felt loved. How many other people on this earth would charge into Hades and curse out the devil and B-slap a few demons on my behalf? Not only did my baby sister stand behind her fandoms, she stood behind the people she loved. She also went after her hopes and dreams, poured out her soul onstage, and earned a Bachelor's Degree at FSU. She also had her struggles, and we had a few of those in common. There were several demons we fought side by side. We were each other's crisis hotlines. The phone call would start with one of us in the grips of anxiety, or just needing someone to listen, with the other one of us being that ear and strangely knowing the right words to say. How, I don't know, just our similar wiring, I guess. That same phone call would end much more upbeat with us just chatting about whatever, laughter and smiles replacing the tears. You know it is very difficult to sum up my sister in a few words. My baby sister, one with the universe for two years now. If the closest star is four light years away, I still have another two years of every star in the sky shining her life, and a lifetime of lighting the way in her name. It is not the same as her being here, and I am not the same without her. All the above would be my reply to the question, "Who was Marsha?" Still it feels inadequate. She was one of the greatest human beings I have ever known. It just feels wrong to end this text here, so I won't. Instead I am going to talk about some of my favorite memories of my baby sis. Be prepared to hear me ramble. I guess I am getting old because I have some rambling stories to tell. But, I really want everybody to know this wonderful soul, this sibling not only of biology, but of the universe. I miss you, Sis. Words can never convey how empty my world is without you.
I know I may have told some of these stories before, but these are memories I like to go back to when I can, so why the hell not? Flashback: 1989 or so.... I had just installed some subwoofers in my 1981 Buick Regal and I had the Enterprise D bridge background sounds on cassette tape. You could hear all the bleeps and blips, but those subwoofers really brought out the sound of the warp engines. To be in my car sounded like being on the Enterprise. So, there we were in my parent's yard, my sister and I, sitting in my car, totally immersed in the sound when a cat jumped up on the hood of my car. Marsha said, "Captain, there is a cat approaching." To which I replied, " On screen!" and then said cat walked up closer to the windshield and we said, "Magnify!" I may be nerdy, but that was the coolest trek moment ever. There was this Celtic Festival we went to in 2004, with badass Scottish dudes to whom you dared not comment on their kilts, and there was bagpipe music and cool drums to go with them. I made my sister laugh out loud when I said, "Hey! That's Rowdy Roddy Piper's Theme!" The axe throwing event was cool but made me kinda want to duck. And that log throwing event reinforced my aversion to picking any fights with those guys. Not that I would have anyway as that was one of the coolest things I had ever seen. They were throwing logs that I couldn't even pick up off the ground like Frisbees. It was a really awesome time. Then there was the time we watched "Revenge Of The Sith" brand new when it came to Tallahassee in 2005. Yep, we got to see Anakin Skywalker turn into Darth Vader! The next was going with her to see the Broadway play, "Avenue Q" when it also came to Tallahassee. She had originally seen it in New York with the original cast. It is a totally hilarious parody of sesame street and as she recommended it to me all those years ago, I now recommend it to you. You will totally laugh your socks off! Holiday memories are also very treasured ones. I'll never forget that talking Captain Picard I got her for Christmas one year. I knew right away that I had chosen wisely. On many a fourth of July, my little sister was right there with me in my fireworks antics, an equal participant in my pyrotechnics. It wasn't just those little bitty bundled firecrackers but also those big red ones that could absolutely destroy a soda can. We were like Wile E. Coyote, only with better luck and no living creature harmed aside from a few ants. We were a demolition team. I remember us playing WinBrick 95 on my old computer while listening to the Beatles. I remember all those crazy voice impressions we used to do on tape. I remember a six hour tape of Beetlejuice recorded from Fox28 that we'd watch over and over. Ditto for my first copy of The Dreammaster, the only Freddy movie I had at the time, and how we would parody the soundtrack. I have often since thought of the many similarities between her and the main character of that movie, Alice Johnson, especially how she became an absolute warrior for the people she cared about. I remember the many hours of her watching me play Phoenix on the Atari 2600, and how we'd make VHS tapes where the video consisted of Atari games and the soundtrack was just my music CD's. Remember how the robot in Berserk started walking to the tune of Ozzy's "I AM IRON MAN!"? That was awesome. The last good memory was after I had grown out my hair, how we were confusing her cat by our similar genetics, she on one side of the counter, myself on the other, and each saying "Hello There!" With the cat trying to figure out who was the imposter. I used to joke that if she ever became an action movie actress that I could be her stunt double for that two second scene of her crashing through the wall of the villain's lair. {CRASH!} Our hero would be suddenly a bit taller and a bit broader for those two seconds then back to herself. In the very last photograph ever taken with us in it, A picture of we three siblings together, we did the whole 'Wonder Twins Unite!' joke. Sadly, the last happy memory was not the very last memory. Ten days from now, two years ago. It is one of the many memories I wish I could erase from my brain. The only comfort I can even half take is the hope that maybe she knew I was there at the end. That is the way I try to frame it. I held her hand and she squeezed back. She must have known. Damn it. No matter how I try to frame it, it still hurts like hell. It doesn't matter if it has been two days or two years. Friends, I guess I just feel lost. I know it's been two years, but I'm still having a very difficult time. I am not looking for people to feel bad for me or anything like that. What would really be the point? I also know I am not the only person to have lost somebody they love. It is an unfortunate part of life. Still, I hate it. If death were a person, I would most certainly slug him one. Just because this is not unique to me, should I not feel the way that I do? And if the experience is not unique, Marsha certainly was. If I seem like I am withdrawn, it is because I have a lot of things going on in my mind that I am trying to process. I do my best not to push my feelings on others, especially those who either don't know, and certainly those who wouldn't care. Even in saying this, I do not mean to slam anyone. A lot of the time the simple reason people are not invested in me, my emotions, or my troubles is because they are fighting their own battles and dealing with their own pain. Nobody knows what it's like to be them and nobody knows what it is like to be me. In some ways we are alone, forever and ever amen. But, in our lives, there is often that rare person who truly knows, truly understands, truly gets us. When you lose such a person, you can lose a lot of yourself. It is ten days until that day of all days, that dreaded 23rd. I will spend that day out in the world, trying to make it through. No, I don't want people to feel bad for me, but I do wish they would give me the space and the time I need to get my mind together. There is no pause, no rewind. There is only space and time and the very universe that she is one with. There is nothing that I can do but try to make it through, to do my absolute best to remain a functional human being out in the world. Some days I can sail through just fine. Some days are just not so easy. I have had a couple of recent days when my figurative circuit breakers overloaded. I was lucky both times. The first time was at the end of the day so I was able to get away. The second time I was alone, quite lucky enough that nobody saw. Look, I wear my heart on my sleeve. I always have. I have always been a bit too emotional for the mold society wants me to fit. (But that's a whole other TED Talk.) (Though a contributing factor nonetheless). It's not that I am ashamed either, just that I know that it would be badly misinterpreted. I have this nightmare image of breaking down in front of people and being stared at like a monkey in a zoo. But again, this particular rambling is not supposed to be about me. Still it seems I am experiencing two kinds of grief when it comes to my sister. There is this selfless grief when I think of what her future should have been, of all of her hopes, plans, and dreams, of all the things she wanted to accomplish, of a life that was cut far too short. Then there is this selfish grief where I think about what it means no longer having her in my life, my advocate, my guardian, my warrior, that phone number I could call any time I needed somebody to listen and to understand. The former is about everything that was taken from her. The latter is about all that was taken from me at the same time. What is weird is I often have difficulty separating these two feelings.
There are no right words to end this post, no way to bookend this wall of text or to summarize all of these thoughts and feelings going around and around in my head. I know the world does not stop. I know the feelings do not end when I close this out and press the publish button. I know life goes on and other people have their own troubles. I know that I have to go on, even when I really don't want to. I do not want the world to feel bad for me. However, to spare a thought for this extraordinary human being, this strong, kind, beautiful person who cared so deeply for her friends, for all the people that she loved, who followed her dreams as best she could, who saw so much more in me than I could ever see in myself. Think of her. Remember her. The only thing worse than her sudden absence is any thought of the memory she left behind ever fading away. I just could not bear it. There is no full realization of how much of yourself is reflected in those that you love until they are no longer here. It's not only my baby sister that I have lost, but one major aspect of myself. A word has no meaning without a definition. The same is true for a human being.
No comments:
Post a Comment