“After a dismaying four month rollick only she, especially, and I shared, my sister (and only sibling) died this month within hours of the same day as our mother did six years before. And again, in this very room where I type this.
I will spare the details of her quite unexpected departure. She was a private person, more solitary than even I, if that’s conceivable. I barely know you myself.
“There’s no way to describe what connects you to the one other person on earth who shared some of the same experiences and circumstances. We had very differing personalities in some significant ways. But creativity was something we both understood, and the unique onus it puts on you from childhood onward. Plus, she understood my jokes: not an insignificant thing.
We also lived in the same house for decades. Her friendship, tacitly abiding love, and proximate influence will not be replaced. She was never derogatory to me personally, which as a ‘card carrying’ mean little brother I can’t always say I reciprocated. In a few of our earlier days, anyhow. Such are the unfair vagaries of childhood male peer pressure, and not knowing yourself when you’re growing up. But, we were also often, & quite naturally beyond all that, both then and later.
She loved films, painting, music, and literature, and raised the cultural bar a bit for both me and my mother as we veered naturally & inevitably, if not always happily, toward the lowbrow. But she, too, enjoyed some of the same things we did. We had many laughs, and had frequent enough gab surges to cover as many mysteries, both stellar and pedestrian, as we could manage.
“Yes, she had a major project, that I now become shepherd of (in addition to the many of my own), and am getting gradually acquainted with.
I hope, as I always did, that it will come together for her.” –Rick Grimes 12/29/’015
Art by Ernie Bushmiller. Fair use only claimed.