My Sister Died

 I once said on here that I didn't want anyone to comment on my blog. That wasn’t the truth. I didn’t mind for people to comment. I minded the anxiety I felt about responding to the comment. I’m horrible at small talk and that’s what it felt like to me. So today I’m gonna say that if anyone ever comes here to read, you’re more than welcome to comment (but u don’t have to.)and I will do my best to respond to your comment without sounding like a big dork. 

My big sister passed away. It was an acute episode that went from bad to terrible over the period of a week. It feels like a tragedy to me. We had been estranged per her insistence. She had the same arrangement with my other sisters. It had been going on since my dad’s death three years ago. But I would send her a text maybe once a month just to say hi, or I love you, or fill her in on what was going on in the family. She wouldn’t respond. But that was ok even though I didn’t want it that way.

 I just wanted her to know we all loved her.

On the night she got sick she called me to let me know what was going on, that she would be transferred from one hospital to another that morning for surgery. She was scared. I reassured her, told her we would all be there, made amends, said our I love yous and then that was the last conversation we ever had with each other. We stayed at the hospital with her for that week but she never woke again.

Her funeral was amazing in that so many people were there. So many people loved her. It made me feel good.

When we were little children the five of us girls shared two bedrooms. Three of us in one bedroom, and two in the other. The bedrooms were separated by a small landing at the top of the stairway. There was maybe three or four feet between the bedrooms. At Christmas time my big sis would lead the five of us in singing Christmas songs. We’d be in bed tucked in for the night, and then she would begin singing and the four of us, all her younger sisters would join in. It was always a peaceful, sweet moment that she gave to us and I am grateful for it.

Who Done It

 I’ve been a little obsessed with the JonBenet Ramsey case lately. I do this every couple to few years. I’ve been praying to my dad asking him to tell me who did it. One night he brought Patsy to me and said to her “go ahead and tell her who did it.”  Patsy giggled a little and then I woke without the answer. lol

I vacillate between the mom, dad, son, and intruder theory. I always hope the intruder theory is correct. I don’t want to believe a parent could do that to their child. Mostly though I believe someone in the family did it.

I feel sad when I see photos of their well lived in home with evidence of busy, productive,  lives verses the way things ended up. It’s horrible.

I remember when I went to the Ramsey home and being surprised at how close the neighbors house was to the Ramseys’.  I thought you’d have to be nuts to enter through a window with neighbors that close. I also remember thinking how vacant the street seemed to be. No signs of life happening. It just  seemed cloudy and depressing.

And when we went around to the back of the house I remember thinking how weird it was that a small business was right there practically in their backyard. I didn’t realize then that it was actually just a part of their giant house.

Poor little JonBenet. Every time her dad does a tv appearance on some talk show and he pretends to be looking for his daughters killer (assuming he knows who did it) he just disrespects that little girl over and over again. Shameful.

The Twix Bar

I couldn’t sleep. I seldom do. I was hungry so I made some chicken salad and then a chicken salad sandwich. It was ok.

Ralphi is sitting with me. He’s a good ole boy. I love him so much. 

I was just thinking about the candy bar from the firehouse parking lot. On many days when I take a walk I take a Kroger bag with me and pick up litter along the way..  One day I noticed a Twix candy bar in the firehouse parking lot. I refused to pick it up. I wanted to see how long a group of grown men would let that thing lay there.

A dozen men walked by that Twix bar everyday, twice a day for over two months. Why couldn’t they pick it up? For fuc*s sake just pick it up!

Then a few days ago it was gone. Just like that it was gone.I was so disappointed. I liked looking down on the firehouse people (men) for being too lazy to pick it up..  And everyday that I’d see that Twix bar in the parking lot it would reinforce in me that I was right. I was smug in my rightness. So yes I was thinking about that candy bar and wondering who picked it up. I text my sisters and asked if they thought the people at the fire house would think me nuts if I called them and asked if any of them picked up that candy bar. I just have this need in my head to know. My youngest sister text back and said her husband said “Sandy those lazy bastards didn’t pick it up. A raccoon got it.” lol My other sister, who I had been updating on the candy bar said “I picked it up Sandy. I’m sorry. I couldn’t take it anymore.” She was joking. lol

My guess is that a female visitor picked it up or some kid walking by picked it up and ate it.

               The End

Good Will

 I had a nice time with my family on Christmas Day, and then out to lunch with my daughter New Years Eve. I spent New Year’s Day alone watching TV, reading, and taking a walk. It was a quiet and relaxing day.

I meant to get an early start today but wasn’t very successful. I did unload and then loaded the dish washer, vacuumed, and then painted my nails. I’m going to shower in a bit and then go to the grocery.

The other day I went to the Good Will looking for a bookcase. I didn’t find one but I found a picture that I absolutely loved. Some might call it tacky but maybe that’s my thing some of the time.