My Next 40 Years

As I start writing this, I don’t what it will turn into.  All I know, is I’ve had these thoughts of her tumbling around in my head like polished stones since I left for Portugal. This will likely be a little disjointed as I’ve a reached a point where I just need to let the words flow.  My sister was a complicated person and we had a complicated relationship.  Some memories I’ll share, some I’ll only share with her kids and some I’ll keep to myself and cherish forever.  Time has a tendency to make the past either rosier, or bleaker.  With regards to Heather, my memories are definitely a little rosy these days when I talk to others. 

My sister Heather, unexpectedly died in her home a few days after New Year 2024.  She had been diagnosed many years previously with Lupus – an autoimmune disease.  In addition, she battled a lifetime of mental health illness.  Ultimately, she caught RSV, a very serious upper respiratory infection, and was unable to fight it off.  She was a few weeks shy of her 47^th birthday.

Something you may not know about me – I have very few memories from my childhood.  I didn’t have a particularly bad childhood but I have maybe a handful of memories before the age of 5 and all but one include my sister. These memories are as clear and crisp as if the events happened a few hours ago, not forty years ago.

My very first memory is of my sister crimping my Alf dolls hair.  If you remember toys in the 80’s you remember there were very few safety regulations in place and that polyester doll went up in smoke so fast!  I don’t remember to the outcome of the event, only the event.  We had a bathroom off the family room that connected to my parents’ room.  My sister and her best friend were in the bathroom playing with my mom’s crimping iron and got the idea to see if it worked on stuffed animals. 

My next memory is of sitting on the sofa in the living room looking out of the side windows.  It was so sunny and beautiful but it was pouring rain.  My young brain couldn’t comprehend how it was sunny and raining – when it rained, it was supposed to be cloudy.  Big Sister to the rescue – I have a crystal-clear memory of her leaning in and whispering “Do you know why it’s sunny and raining?” I shook my head and she said “It means the Devil is beating his wife” and walked away.  I don’t recall the impact this had on me at the time, but to this day, over 35 years later, I still hear her voice whisper in my ear “the Devil’s beating his wife” every time it rains and the sun is out.

As we grew up, my parents divorced and while my sister stayed with our mother, I stayed with my dad.  This means we didn’t see each other a lot through the years but every time we were together, it was memorable:

I found and gave our mom her entire weed stash

One time, she waxed off my entire eyebrow

She came home one night and spent HOURS flicking pennies at me in bed in the middle of the night

I lit a candle she was going to gift for Christmas and it started a small world war

After I had my tonsils removed, she convinced me to use numbing spray and eat pizza.  I was in the hospital for a week after my throat hemorrhaged and I almost died.  The pizza was pretty good though. 

When I was in high school, she would always pick me up for the Holidays to transport me from one parent to the other.  She would always have Christmas music blasting full volume and would make me sing on the way to our moms.

The summer after I turned 18, she would take me clubbing and sneak me Midori Sours.  To this day, I will not drink anything neon green and when I hear “Boots with the Fur” I see her, drink in the air, laughing at herself dancing.

One time she was housesitting for someone that had a pool and a few dogs.  I came over to stay with her for the weekend and boy was it a weekend.  I was in high school at the time, and spend most of my time at boarding school so we didn’t see each other much.  I was so excited to spend the weekend with her!  Night one, she attempted to bleach her friend’s hair using a Target branded bag.  The brand from the bag came off during the bleaching process and dyed her friend’s hair.  They spent the rest of the weekend attempting to fix this issue and I’m pretty sure her friend left with much less hair than she arrived with.

WHFS Festival.  These are some memories I’ll keep tucked in tight but to this day, but when I hear “Hanging by a Moment” I’m transported to that rainy RFK Stadium with her.

She helped me get ready for every prom, homecoming etc during my high school years.  She would spend hours on my hair and makeup.  Those were some of my favorite times with her.

When she came home from Seatle a little more broken than when she left.

Watching her scream at the dog, Nicky, while she was 7 months pregnant was probably the funniest, most redneck thing ever.  They did not get along for whatever reason.

When she had her baby so early it was terrifying.  I didn’t understand at the time because I was so young.  But I get it now, and I wish I could tell her that.

Watching her marry the love of her life and standing beside her when they divorced many years later.

Being there when her daughter was born.

She stayed with me for weeks after I had my second baby.  She threw her new baby in the car, slept on my sofa in a packed townhome for weeks helping me life: making dinners, doing laundry.  She was at my house when Hurricane Katrina hit and we sat there for days openmouthed watching the horrors of what was happening.

That party we attended shortly after I got divorced where we drank jungle juice and partied like we were young again.

When her best friend killed himself and all I could do was sit and listen.

One year on my birthday, she called and shared that she was gay.  I told her so what, she’s still Heather.

At my 30^th birthday party, when someone was being mean, she defended me like a mother bear.

Talking with her on the phone for endless hours after we moved too far away to visit each other.

Reconnecting with her at our Aunt Paulines house after being estranged for several years and then getting to re-know her.  That first day, we talked for hours on the freezing cold front porch.

I remember sharing with her my final paper from college.  I had written about the stigma associated with mental health and how we as a society need to do better to break down the walls.  She was so proud that she shared my paper with her therapy group.

We had our differences, but at the end of the day, we were sisters.  She was the only person in the entire world who really KNEW me.  She knew my deep darks, she knew all of the buttons to push – as did I, I never had to explain with her.  Just share.  She was supposed to be around until the end.  Or at least much closer to it than this.  We joked about locking our mom in the basement and throwing food down to her every now and then (we wouldn’t really).  She was my hero.  I looked up to her my entire life.  She was the coolest person I’d ever met and was way ahead of every fashion trend.  She had tattoos before they were “hip”, the undercut was her jam was before it became popular.  The oxblood red Doc Marten’s she sported in the 90’s was iconic.  She was iconic and I’ll miss her every day for the rest of my life.