When you watch The Ten Commandments every year, and, let's face it, everyone does, do you sing the I Am So Sad song while the very sad Jewish slave girl who is stuck living with Edward G. Robinson plays her stringed instrument and looks wistfully out the window? No? We did. We made up the words and the four-note "song" made it into our repertoire of inside jokes. The relationship I had with my sister Ann was the kind where all I had to do was sing those four words, and she knew exactly what was going on with me. And we would laugh!
If at any time while reading this blog you feel like laughing, go ahead! A lot of it is funny. Finding the humor in life was one of the greatest gifts we enjoyed together. If you feel like crying, getting angry, or whatever, that's okay. I realized that when I write this stuff, I am in the midst of whatever emotion I am expressing. But, when someone else reads it, I am in a different space. Because I wrote it out. The people reading it in the moment worry that I am in that same space. My grief is up and down. It comes and goes, like all of the mountains, valleys, and seasons of life.
Ann and I were not twins, but we sometimes felt the way I imagine twins feel. We were so close, we developed a sort of short hand for communicating. A glance. A widening of the eyes. A certain inflection in the pronunciation of a word. A shrug or gesture with the hands. We quickly told each other how we felt without saying a word.
Many of our inside jokes came from movies. By the time we were in our 40s, we expressed ourselves through dialog from our favorite movies, books, and TV shows -a continuation of all the whisperings in the dark, under the blankets when we were kids. Why so much media? Why not get outside and run around? Ann could not run. It pained her so that the pain in her leg was so huge she could not run. So, once she became ill, we spent our time finding entertainment that did not require much movement or money (our parents budget was stretched beyond any extras once she became ill). Anyone who is disabled or loves someone who is disabled knows this. My son is also disabled and uses a wheelchair. We enjoy lots of non-sports, non-walking activities together.
Many of our favorite movie quotes were from Moonstruck. If you never saw it, try it now. Hilarious! And very Italian. We both could mimic the accents and voices from characters (and actual people) very well, so the accents accompanied the lines. "Get me the big knife", "I won't do it, I tellya," and, "of course, it's not really a story..." from Moonstruck (some of our favorites).
Then there were the times we replaced the actual words with words made up for the situation. Once in an aisle at target, we were considering buying olives and Ann said, perfectly imitating some English actor from a noir film we had just seen, "I know you love olives, don't you," with a haughty toss of her dark, thick hair. I nearly fell over laughimg and heard the laughs from many people around us.
We slept in the same be until I was 13. We took baths together until I was four - always in our underwear and t-shirts and sometimes in our little red polka dot bikinis. (My mom had a thing about staying clothed at all times.) It saved water and was so much fun! She was three years older than me and I was most definitely her shadow. I idolized her, loved her in the deepest, most all-encompassing way.
I will never forget one night right before sleep when she sat up in bed, widened her eyes unblinkingly, turned her head in a scary, robotic motion and said in a falsetto voice, "I'm the devil." The Exorcist had just come out and I had not seen it, but read the book. She mimicked the "devil girl" from the movie so perfectly, I didn't sleep for weeks. Then she also planted other seeds during the daytime to creep me out further. Does it seem particularly cold in our room? Did you notice all the flies in the corner above our bed? I was absolutely convinced she was possessed by the devil. The perfect joke to play on a little sister.
My cup of memories runneth over today with the happiness, joy, love and hilarity. Laughter was the key to everything for us. We found the humor in any situation. We laughed into the darkness and brought light into our lives together.
As kids we snuck saltine crackers, butter, wine glasses, and ice water (always in the metal shaker our parents used to make martinis and other mixed drinks) into our bedroom during the day so we could have a party at night. The non-verbal signals proved most important for this covert work. One would distract the mother while the other tiptoed into the kitchen to commandeer the full sleeve of crackers. It would take an entire summer day to gather all the elements without getting caught.
Those were the best days ever. And the best reward for all that hard work? Definitely that ice cold water. Ann always needed butter on her crackers - I thought that was kind of weird. But she was my older sister, so I believed it must be very elegant and grown up to shmeer your crackers with butter, or margarine (my mom always bought margarine). Our little kid paté.
Looking back on this now, I wonder if this is why so many of my mom's beautiful crystal wine glasses are missing. Maybe after we smuggled them into our room, they got lost or broken under the bed with the rest of our contraband. Those glasses were etched with the most beautiful filigree design. I think it was meant to match the lace of my mom's gorgeous wedding dress. Simple elegance. That was my mom. And the most beautiful mom in any neighborhood. I will write more about her next.
Have you ever had those moments when you are bursting with love, admiration, and pride? This is one for me. Remembering the beauty, wit, intelligence, and humor of my sister and my mom. Is this a stage of grief? I don't know if it is an official one, but who cares?
Comments