Suziecreamcheese Sings the Blues

I’m 4 years old in this picture. My sister is 15. One of my friends edited it for me, and without realizing it, added angel wings.

I want to write that little girl, that 4 year old, a letter. I want to tell her to cling even tighter to her big sister because the day will come when she can’t. But she’s 4, she’d have no idea why someone would tell her that the person who was there every minute of her life, who took her everywhere and bought her her first Barbie and taught her that Elvis was great and James Dean was cool, and that love lasts forever, even if you get married and move away and have kids and they seem to come first – they don’t, it’s always you and her – that someday that person would be gone.

She left on October 17th. I called her nearly every Thursday – and I didn’t realize that I stored up bits of gossip and general information all week to tell her during those calls. In her last few years, she rarely got out, she had limited mobility and a great lack of patience 🙂 So I asked her about the family history – and I’m realizing now I didn’t ask enough questions because, dammit, Nancy would always be there to answer any questions I had. Oh, and to tell me the juicy parts of stories that were kept secret from a 4 year old!

I know she’s still with me. I hear her voice and hear her telling me to knock it off, get on with it, she’ll see me again. I know that in my head, but my heart is saying something different.

She loved Christmas. I was going to cancel Christmas this year because my heart is just so broken. And then I realized that that was no way to honor her memory. Or my mom’s, who also loved Christmas. So in spite of family drama on the other side of the road, and my broken heart, my house is going to be decorated within an inch of its life. The tree – artificial because we’re not rich enough to pay $100 for a tree we’ll throw out in a few weeks – will come up from the basement this weekend. The Hallmark animated figures will come out and find places. The garland will drape around the bannisters. And the chocolate creams will be made and eaten, along with a pumpkin roll and cookies.

And I’ll cry, but I’ll laugh and tell stories to Maverick about when I was that four year old whose big sister gave her anything she wanted. Bear will laugh at us and we’ll play Elvis’ Christmas album because Nancy loved Elvis.

And it will be okay. Little four year old Susan? It will be okay. But I really wish I could hug my sister one more time.

It’s been an interesting couple of weeks, hasn’t it? I tried to stay up on Tuesday night – election night – to get the final results, but my eyes refused to co-operate. About 1/2 hour after I went to bed, the Bear came up, said “are you awake?” I was, sort of. He said, “If nothing drastic happens, I think he’s gonna win it.” Well. I was fully awake then! Are. You. Kidding. ME???

I live in PA, we expect drastic shit to happen overnight when it’s an election. (Not just recent elections, we’re known for shady shit. Not proud of it, just tellin the truth) So it was with a bit of trepidation that I checked the news the next morning.

Again. Are You Kidding MEEE?????

I have a lot of liberal friends. We talk, and we agree to disagree on a lot of points. I’ve tried to tell them that identity politics were going to bite them in the ass one day. I tried to tell them that insisting on using certain words was going to bite them in the ass. (No Latino person I know wanted to be called by “Latinx” for example) I tried to tell them that pushing gender issues on small children was going to bite them in the ass.

They didn’t listen.

I wonder if they can hear me now?

Did no one realize that running on basically one issue – abortion – would alienate a huge section of the population? Did they not realize that calling people garbage would alienate them? Did they not realize that telling a traditionally “big car” population that nope, you’re gonna give up your truck for an EV whether you like it or not, was going to alienate them?

Sadly, it doesn’t seem like they learned anything. I’m on a lot of social media sites, and the general consensus among the Democrats is that America is racist and would never vote for a woman, especially not a black woman. It couldn’t possibly be that we could see that she was half drunk most of the time, that she wasn’t qualified, that she wasn’t chosen by the people but by a few in power when the Resident obviously (well, it was obvious for a long time) couldn’t continue.

I’m worried about this country, I’m worried about women who think that shaving their heads and swearing off sex for four years is an appropriate reaction to election results they don’t like. I’m worried that grown adults needed coloring pages and simple crafts to help them deal with the disappointment. (I didn’t get crafts when Biden won, dammit!) And I’m worried about people who returned butter to a store because it contained milk.

Yup. We’re doomed.

Everyone behaved.
Phew!

I had a moment when we got there, pictures that weren’t expected hit me hard, But I pulled it together. The sister who doesn’t speak to me was there, left immediately – but that’s on her, I didn’t even say hello to her, so if she wanted to run from me, that’s not my problem.

My great nephew, who is studying to be a doctor, was there with his mom (he’s the grandson of M, who doesn’t speak to me) I adore that boy. I guess he’s a man now, but he’ll always be the little boy who shared a rootberry snowcone with me every year at the Fair. THAT made me cry. I so rarely hear from him, he’s so busy with his studies.

There were a few moments – the final song was Vince Gill’s “Go rest high on that mountain.” Yeah, who chose that one? It wouldn’t have been my sister’s choice, I think she would have preferred Elvis. 🙂

So I made it through. Then my dear friend, who brought me the two things guaranteed to make me smile yesterday – yarn and fabric – and who accompanied me to the service – took me to dinner at the local Italian restaurant. The young girl who escorted us to our table looked familiar. I said her name with a question mark. – she responded. I told her, “I’m your great-aunt.” (Her grandmother is M, who doesn’t speak to me. ) I’ve only seen this kid a few times in her life, but when I asked if we could get a picture together, she readily agreed.

So a day of sadness was lightened by two young people – two kids I’ve loved all their lives, in the same way my sister loved me.

I’ll be okay. And when I’m gone, I hope they remember me with the same love and joyful hearts that I remember my sister.

See you on the side, Nancy