Apr 20 2009
My sister, you are forever in my heart
My Dearest,
First and foremost, I know you are at peace and this is priceless to me and those that genuinely adore you.
As I share these words with you thru my soul, thru my tears, thru my pain, thru my selfish loss, thru my heart I only hope the higher power and angels above deliver them.
What void my heart holds is beyond any words can describe; it is something I will forever remain speechless over. You were my sister and will always be my sister. You and I held together a 30+ year relationship. Our relationship was rough, it was tested, our relationship was joyous, and our relationship was bonded beyond the family blood that pumps thru our veins. Our relationship remains as alive as the memory of bathing, as infants, together in the kitchen sink. As we were introduced into this world as cousins, you became more to me. You quickly became my god sister and as we aged you became another sister to me.
During our childhood years, living just around the corner always seemed too far. When we would hang out, dusk would come too quickly. Always overly excited to hang out we would con the mothers to ask your father if a slumber party could end our night, which always worked by the way!
Mischievous little ones were we; risking you facing punishment was a small price to pay. Being punished for whatever reason I wasn’t allowed to go play outside and yet I was allowed for only you to come by. So in order to keep entertained we would hang out on the fire escape. Knowing that if your father would turn the corner you would get in trouble was no big deal, just hanging out was important.
As I take my mind back to the many fantasies, this clubhouse was something so real. So real that we had a plan set out, it was written! We had dreams to somehow get Grand Piping to give us a room, or lot, depending on their generosity. This clubhouse dream would be gravel lined, sure you remember, I was going to steal the gravel from my fish tank and make my parents buy more, and then when they got the batch, I would steal that again, over and over, that was the way we line the entry, with sparkly gravel from my fish tank. We were going to do the clubhouse with a membership admission at that!
On the sunny days, after a good rain shower, we would meet up on your block. The idea of collecting fresh worms was how we would entertain ourselves. As we dug up the moist dirt, with bottle caps, from the hydrant in front of your door, we looked for the wiggly worms. The wiggly worms were put into the bottle caps, also known as their very own boats, and put into the water stream…and off they went down into the sewer drain. Wasn’t that just awful?
When the summer days came along all the cousins were shipped off to Puerto Rico. Here, on this very little island, we made a mess of it. Do you remember collecting seashells in my grandparents’ yard? Do you remember collecting hands full of shells and then painting them the color maroon…or whatever colors my grandmother had available. Once the seashells were painted, and getting a loud scolding, in Spanish nonetheless, we were determined to sell them at $0.25. What a scandal sister!!
Do you remember as the Autumn days came around? Your block was where I always wanted to be. Your block, maybe even in front of your door, was where I learned to roller skate. With only 3 hours and many falls and scrapes on the knees was how my grandmother taught me. Once you and I were able to roller skate, without bruises, that was the new hobby for us, clearing paths and learning to spin was the accomplishment of the day. When we learned about roller skating rinks this was where we wanted to be. I remember you once invited me to the rink Oasis. This was the first time I was at a rink and I made it a memorable one because you still talked about how I made you trip. I apologized for over 17 years for that and I made it up to you when we went to the Rink. Here I let you have your moment. You roller skated flawlessly. You looked like Mariah Carey, with that long blonde wig and your pink-wheeled skates. I made sure to stay at least three feet away and promised to not bring a Koosh ball…after all that was what made you fall the first time. Whether or not I will ever feel the same about roller skating, I’m not so sure.
As we turned into the typical New Yorkers we would meet on a weekly basis. We would schedule our Bberry calendars to make time for coffee. As we became some fabulous fashionistas we thrived for the luxuries. So as we would sit and discuss, or as we should really call it, gossiped, I would always introduce the idea, but as you would call them “whacky ideas”, of beginning our very own line of fashion. I shared the dream, with you, of starting our very own clothing line and of course, the guilty pleasure of sexy heels. You would always laugh at the idea; you would call me crazy for dreaming so large. And I honestly believe that my persistence was wearing you down. How did I know this? You asked me who would sketch, who was cutting the fabrics, who was modeling, who was going to carry the line. I had all the answers of course. I included all the cousins, you and I as staff, I even volunteered my apartment as the sweatshop! Can you imagine if that really would have worked out?
As we found our offices only three blocks apart we made a ritual of attending a weekly Thursday Mass. You were the one who would encourage me to actually take a lunch and step out to visit with God. It’s funny how when the clock struck 11:45 a.m. you knew I would be outside your glass doors to pick you up. Feet away the church stood and as we would walk, to the doors of the chapel, we would stand out front and toke the last drags of the cigarettes. We would enter and touch our foreheads with holy water. As we selected the same pew every week we silently sat and listened to the Word of God. We let all our worries, stresses and mean thoughts escape into the tall ceilings. We accepted his welcoming words and asked for guidance. We relieved ourselves.
You knew I was just a phone call away, especially when you wanted to do an escape move. You remember right…to pack your things and move out while your boyfriend was working the night shift. Packing your things, including a cat and bunking in my mother’s house was nothing new, it was just like the way it was on South 1st Street.
I will miss your wit, your calls at crazy hours of the night, when you should have been sleeping, only to talk to me in incomplete sentences, which drove me absolutely crazy. I will miss your carefree sense, something I am not. I will miss how you didn’t sweat the big things but only the small things, the opposite of what I am. There are too many things that I will miss but what stands out the most is the bond we had. No matter distance or time, no matter how many disappointments, or how many arguments, we always brushed them off and picked up right where we left off…with so much catching up to do!
As I shake my head because I am so afraid to open up, you know me so well that you would tell me to stop the hiding act and reach out. You were my go to gal and no one will ever replace this. There are so many memories, from childhood, teenage years, to adulthood. From Williamsburg, to Ridgewood, to the Bronx, to Queens and roundabout I was always there for you as you was there for me whenever I needed a sister. Sexy heels, fabulous clothes, great coffee, men and the wonders of aging will never be shared with you again. These are only a portion of things that I will never forget.
My heart has always held this love for you. I always imagined you being here with me forever. I never imagined never being able to meet you for some Starbucks. I never imagined you not being here. I always figured to have you around to turn my frown upside down with your wit.
You have changed my life in some many ways. You have made me see things from perspectives I would never have. You have offered priceless advice. You gave me reassurance. You were my cheerleader. You were always willing to make me smile and piss my thongs! You gave me a sense of sisterhood I never really had with my very own sister. You were a best friend with conditions of course. You were kooky and silly. You were a riot when on a roll. You was my audience when I needed to “get Brooklyn” on them. You have made me smile more times than I can thank you for. You have made me feel secure when I felt my world was colliding. You gave me everything I ever needed in a sister.
I will forever miss you.
Forever and always,
Jennifer
aka Miss Talking Eyes
