A Thank You For My Sister
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Dear Pat,
You're always in the periphery of my first memories. There but off to the side. Ever present, though, when others had come and gone.
You were the one who picked me up from kindergarten every day. I remember when I had started reading and we were crossing the street, my hand firmly in yours. I stopped and wouldn't cross. You tugged me. I said "Sign says STOP so we can't cross" You laughed and explained that the sign was for cars not people. We went home and had milk and cookies. You always allowed me four when Mama only let me have 3.
There was a time when we didn't see you much. We'd only see each other on Thanksgiving and Christmas. I remember the void but didn't know why it was there. I'd been so young when you were there that I hardly remembered.
When I got older and Mama and I didn't get along I'd call you. You always answered the call. I'd call to complain or ask if I could come visit. The door was always open for me. I'd go to school in Harlem then come up to Throgs Neck for the weekend. I used to joke and say it was my weekend home. Not so much a joke. At that point in my life, your home was more my home than my own.
Then along came your precious daughter, my Bean. She was so cute and sweet. I loved her from the first time I saw her. Little did I know, history was repeating itself. She and I have, over the years, developed the same relationship you and I had. This time I got to be the big sister of sorts. I'd come more frequently on the weekends so I could be around her. And away from Mama.
Then Mama got sick and right after that I got married and moved away. You took her, dementia and all, into your home to care for her along with the rest of your family. I know it wasn't easy but you never bowed under the pressure. She was no pleasure when she was healthy, and sick she was worse still. You bore it without complaint. When it was time for her to go into a long term facility, to wait to die basically, you did everything that needed to be done to get her in. I remember the last time we went to see her. She recognized you and thought I was a nurse. Typical...she never did see me for who I was. She died within the month.
When there were problems in the beginning of my marriage who did I turn to? You of course...open arms, open door. When we reconciled again you welcomed us...both of us..to stay with you till we got our acts together.
Christmas was always at your house. We loved coming there. Glenny's first Christmas, he wasn't a month old, he was sleeping under your Christmas tree. Your husband is his godfather and you've both loved my children as your own. I remember thinking that my children wouldn't have their grandmother but they always had you. Our age difference puts you more at the Granny age than auntie but they've been fortunate enough to have you as both. Even 1500 miles away now, they get their monthly packages from you, which you know they love. They never know what to expect. Gingerbread cookies for decorating at the holidays, money for ice cream at Carvel, clothes, games. You never disappoint. You never have.
When you got sick I was paralyzed with fear. I couldn't come to you as I had two babies to care for. It's probably the biggest regret of my life, not being able to do for you when you'd done so much for me.
There was always a special bond between us and I didn't know why. Until I asked you about where you were when JFK was killed. You thought for a moment and told me you were with me. I was an infant and you were watching me because Mama was working. It was then that you told me that you were my "mother" for the first 5 years of my life. I was in shock. The bond was formed in my infancy and lasts to this day.
How can I thank you for all this? How to put into words the love I have for you? You are my best friend, my mother, my sister and my strength. You're the one I look to in times of trouble, heartache and absolute joy. The words "thank you" do not do it justice but I hope this letter somewhat conveys the message of the love, admiration and respect I have for you.
You're always in the periphery of my first memories. There but off to the side. Ever present, though, when others had come and gone.
You were the one who picked me up from kindergarten every day. I remember when I had started reading and we were crossing the street, my hand firmly in yours. I stopped and wouldn't cross. You tugged me. I said "Sign says STOP so we can't cross" You laughed and explained that the sign was for cars not people. We went home and had milk and cookies. You always allowed me four when Mama only let me have 3.
There was a time when we didn't see you much. We'd only see each other on Thanksgiving and Christmas. I remember the void but didn't know why it was there. I'd been so young when you were there that I hardly remembered.
When I got older and Mama and I didn't get along I'd call you. You always answered the call. I'd call to complain or ask if I could come visit. The door was always open for me. I'd go to school in Harlem then come up to Throgs Neck for the weekend. I used to joke and say it was my weekend home. Not so much a joke. At that point in my life, your home was more my home than my own.
Then along came your precious daughter, my Bean. She was so cute and sweet. I loved her from the first time I saw her. Little did I know, history was repeating itself. She and I have, over the years, developed the same relationship you and I had. This time I got to be the big sister of sorts. I'd come more frequently on the weekends so I could be around her. And away from Mama.
Then Mama got sick and right after that I got married and moved away. You took her, dementia and all, into your home to care for her along with the rest of your family. I know it wasn't easy but you never bowed under the pressure. She was no pleasure when she was healthy, and sick she was worse still. You bore it without complaint. When it was time for her to go into a long term facility, to wait to die basically, you did everything that needed to be done to get her in. I remember the last time we went to see her. She recognized you and thought I was a nurse. Typical...she never did see me for who I was. She died within the month.
When there were problems in the beginning of my marriage who did I turn to? You of course...open arms, open door. When we reconciled again you welcomed us...both of us..to stay with you till we got our acts together.
Christmas was always at your house. We loved coming there. Glenny's first Christmas, he wasn't a month old, he was sleeping under your Christmas tree. Your husband is his godfather and you've both loved my children as your own. I remember thinking that my children wouldn't have their grandmother but they always had you. Our age difference puts you more at the Granny age than auntie but they've been fortunate enough to have you as both. Even 1500 miles away now, they get their monthly packages from you, which you know they love. They never know what to expect. Gingerbread cookies for decorating at the holidays, money for ice cream at Carvel, clothes, games. You never disappoint. You never have.
When you got sick I was paralyzed with fear. I couldn't come to you as I had two babies to care for. It's probably the biggest regret of my life, not being able to do for you when you'd done so much for me.
There was always a special bond between us and I didn't know why. Until I asked you about where you were when JFK was killed. You thought for a moment and told me you were with me. I was an infant and you were watching me because Mama was working. It was then that you told me that you were my "mother" for the first 5 years of my life. I was in shock. The bond was formed in my infancy and lasts to this day.
How can I thank you for all this? How to put into words the love I have for you? You are my best friend, my mother, my sister and my strength. You're the one I look to in times of trouble, heartache and absolute joy. The words "thank you" do not do it justice but I hope this letter somewhat conveys the message of the love, admiration and respect I have for you.
