There are times when we all need to share a little pain, and ironing out the rough spots is the hardest part when memories remain. – Elton John
When I lost my mother 24 years ago technology wasn’t quite as advanced as it is now. I wrote Mom a letter and decided that she could read it once she got to Heaven. Unfortunately, to my horror, there were printer issues, which freaked me out in a way that is embarrassing to ponder two decades later. At any rate, I decided to save the letter on a floppy disk and put that in her casket. It’s okay if you’re laughing…the term “floppy disk” was funny even back in the day, and it certainly seems quaint now.
So here we are, with a much improved forum to express my thoughts upon the passing of my sister. Sadly, words not only seem inadequate, but aren’t, with all due respect to Ralphie Parker, pouring out with feverish fluidity. To be honest, I’ve been kind of numb the past couple of weeks. I’m okay as long as I am busy, or atleast distracted, but when things get too quiet, well…that’s a different story.
My sister was a normal, healthy, much loved, well cared for, maybe even spoiled toddler of nearly three when I arrived and totally screwed everything up for her. IYKYK. I required a lot of care & attention in my childhood, including multiple surgeries & hospitalizations that took my mother away from my sister for significant stretches of time. To her credit she didn’t act out or express jealousy. I never got the sense that she felt any kind of resentment. It’s a discussion we never had, which I regret. We were blessed to not only have terrific parents, but a fantastic support system. It took a village for us decades before that whole idea became trendy.
Don’t misunderstand…I am not deifying my sister. While certain aspects of our dynamic were unusual, in general we were typical siblings. She remains the only person I’ve ever punched, but in all fairness she once opened a recliner on my face and also whacked me with a cast iron skillet. We weren’t perfect by any stretch, but I believe we were perceived as good kids by most people. Parenting matters.
Oddly enough we had what we called The Secret Club, promising not to tell our parents certain things. I refer to it as odd because we weren’t troublemakers and didn’t have many secrets to keep. The only thing that pops into my mind is when we found the hidden stash of Christmas gifts and knew we were getting an Atari weeks in advance. The surprise we expressed when opening that present on Christmas morning should probably have gotten us Academy Award nominations. Or perhaps Mom & Dad saw right thru us like that rather transparent wrapping paper. I don’t know…it was never discussed. I just remember how much I enjoyed playing Frogger & Pitfall…in her room, because that’s where the game was set up. After all, she had seniority.
We were fairly prosaic teenagers by modern standards. No drinking or drugs. No petty crime sprees. She was the quintessential teenage girl who argued with her mother occasionally. She’d tell Mom “I’ll do anything you need me to do. Just tell me what to do!!”, while Mom’s logic was “I shouldn’t have to tell you what to do…you should see what needs to be done and do it.” I think my sister finally understood when she became a mother. We both did well enough academically, although I never got to observe her in that environment because I always attended different schools due to accessibility. I know she wasn’t in the popular cliques with the cool kids, and she wasn’t a band geek, but she had friends and was well-liked. I have gotten to know some of her friends thru the years. We did go to church with Mom and were in the youth group together, and she would certainly agree that those were some of the most fun & impactful years of our lives.
Adulthood can sometimes create a level of distance as people marry, have children of their own, relocate, and evolve in various aspects of life, but my sister & I grew closer as we got older. She had her first child when I was in college, and I finally got to meet him several weeks later when I came home for Spring Break amidst a blizzard. When she had her younger son I was at the hospital with the family as it was happening. He looked a lot like me growing up and I’d joke around with his mother that “this is West Virginia…people may start to talk”. She & I actually worked together for a couple of years scanning fingerprint cards for an FBI-adjacent company. It may not have been my favorite place of employment, but in hindsight I am thankful for the experience.
Things weren’t always pleasant. She got divorced. Our mother died. We both had health challenges, which was pretty standard for me but a new mountain to climb for her. However, she raised her boys, and just like us they didn’t get into much trouble, got thru school, and have become productive, decent, respectable young men. They too have a great support system, which is extremely important now. Herman Melville once said “our lives are connected by a thousand invisible threads, our actions run as causes and return to us as results.”
We often agreed that our lives were never quite the same after Mom’s death. I don’t know why that is…we weren’t small children. Maybe it was simply a convenient focal point. Other things strengthened our bond. Technology can be a wonderful thing, and we texted each other all the time. She talked me off a ledge in many situations, and I offered my perspective on things with which she struggled. There was an unspoken permission to express our darkest or weirdest thoughts without judgement. She was so much like my mother in the way that she was kind & self-effacing, but didn’t hesitate to speak her mind or tell a person the hard truth. Her increasingly poor health created a new level of understanding. We got each other in ways that no one else can truly recognize, hating the roadblocks we faced. We both worried about our Dad and felt bad that he was still doing things for us at a time when we should’ve been taking care of him.
It’s important to note the lighter moments as well. Our childhood babysitter got us hooked on soap operas…Days of Our Lives & General Hospital. I already miss discussing GH with her. Back in the day she was a Dallas Cowboys fan while I have been a die hard Pittsburgh Steelers fan since I was four years old. That created some good-natured taunting when those two teams would play one another. Something weird happened in recent years though, as she started watching Steelers games. She would’ve gladly carried the banner at any #FireTomlin rally. When we talked or got to be together we always ended up laughing about something. DaLynn had a pretty smile & a great laugh, and I enjoyed making her laugh.
One of the things that I’ve been dealing with is that I don’t have anyone to whine & complain to now. Who can I discuss the trivial aspects of my mundane existence with?? I have people in my life that talk a lot, but who is going to listen to me?? Who will laugh at my nonsense?? No one else really understands me. I realize that sounds selfish, but when Carly inevitably cheats on Drew with Sonny, who is still in love with Nina despite her many faults, I’m going to need to kvetch a bit. Every night for the past couple of weeks, usually around 10pm-ish when I’m winding down, I’ve wanted to text her and assess the events of the day. I’m the kind of nerd that has a few special ringtones for certain people. The Godfather theme for my Dad. Darth Vader’s Imperial March for an old boss I had. The Star Trek theme for a friend who hasn’t called me in several years. DaLynn’s ringtone is a song you’ve heard a million times if you’ve ever watched the Peanuts animated specials. It’s called Linus & Lucy, because Lucy was Linus’ sister, and that’s how my mind works. I’ll never use it for anyone else, but I will also never delete it from my phone.
Though I don’t always act like it or set a good example, I am a man of faith. When I said goodbye to my sister I told her she was going to get to see Mom & all of our grandparents, along with many other long departed loved ones, and I sincerely believe it. That being said, I have suddenly felt very alone. I love my father, and have been so proud of my nephews thru all of this, but it’s not the same. My sister & I were peers. She didn’t treat me like “the guy in a wheelchair”. She didn’t pity me. Unlike interactions with other women, I didn’t feel the need to impress her or be cool. I have friends, but thru no fault of their own they will never truly know me in the way that she did. That being said, my father has now had to bury his wife and daughter, as well as his parents. That’s an incredible amount of loss. I do understand what my nephews are going thru, and that their lives are forever altered as ours were two dozen years ago.
So now, life moves forward, like a rock band with only a couple original members from the classic lineup. There will still be music, it’ll just sound a bit different. I have resumed normal activities, as have her sons and my father. I have begun posting my usual silliness on social media again, which amuses me and hopefully makes some people smile. I will be going to shows at the performing arts center down the street. My friends there and the entertainment provided will be a welcome diversion. I will do these things to honor her memory, and continue doing the same for my mother. The grief will never end…I know that. However, we will laugh again. There will be good times. They are reunited, which is comforting, and I’m sure DaLynn knows what to do now without Mom having to ask.
The Manofesto 