A world without Mary

Saturday, January 19, 2008

I have known Mary my whole life. She is my older sister; well, one of them anyway. She and I have been through so much of our lives together. We went to school the most together, we shared a room most of our youthful lives, we fought the most of us siblings (I also have a younger brother). There were times we shared a bath, a toilet (hey, sometimes those trips back and forth to Asheville were long and the first one to the pot often had to scoot so there was room for two). We shared a lot of things. We once (or twice) liked the same boy. We both liked Air Supply and Marie Osmond. We played on the same basketball and softball teams at Clearmont and then later played b-ball at Mtn. Heritage, although she was much better than I. With her being older, I emulated much of life habits from what I witnessed her and Kassie do. Mary is a prankster. At Clearmont, as we tried to fit in and adjust to life in the country, she used to make fun of our teacher, Mr. Lusk. She said he looked like GI Joe so much that one day he finally asked her how she'd like to write that about 100 times. That put an end to that. I lived in Mary and Kassie's shadows so much, mostly Mary's 'cause we were only a grade apart. I had never been to a school where she hadn't made her mark first. My 8th grade year was the first time I was on my own at a school where she hadn't been, thanks to the consolidation of the middle schools into a high school. That one year of no comparisons was great--until I became a freshman and it all started again. How many times was I called "Mary" or expected to excel in the areas she had, especially in math? Mary got her driver's license and car the next year. I had to beg her to let me ride with her to school. I also had to pay for gas. I couldn't walk in the same door as she did though. Sigh. If we met in the halls, she'd look the other way. The big thing back in our day was on the weekends to ride around town. Sometimes she'd let me go with her; sometimes not. We used to tape songs off the radio with our tape recorders. Whoever was ready for bed first usually got to listen to her music. I'd always act mad but was really glad deep inside when she turned hers on first because that was the rare time I got to listen to her tapes and her songs. She liked to listen to Boston a lot but I wasn't a big fan of theirs. When we were younger, we went to Brownies together. I remember this time we got in a fight and I was slinging my Brownie belt around. It wound up hitting me in the head and I had to get stitches. Another time when we were older and had moved to Burnsville, we got into another physical fight. It was fundraiser time at school and Mary seemed to always have money. This was back when you actually had the goods on hand before taking people's money. She had bought something in a tin can and the lid had come off. After wrestling around on the bed and slapping each other, she pushed me off. I landed on the can. Barefoot and bleeding, I told her I was hurt and to stop. She said she wasn't finished with me yet and continued fighting until I gave up. I've got a tiny scar to this day to remind me of that fun day. One night, Mary came home, crying and upset. It was very late and I was asleep. Groggily I watched as she threw some of her things together and left. I didn't know what was going on, didn't realize she was moving out. It was years later that the truth came out but looking back, that was the start of a loss of innocence that I can never regain. That was the loss of Mary as I had known her: silly, ambitious, carefree, and unhard. Frank Byrd stole my sister's heart and for the next fifteen years or so continued breaking it and/or making her the happiest woman he could. Two children, daughters, were born to them. Frank liked the liquor and the ladies and was a mean drunk. Mary had him arrested several times but kept on taking him back, dropping the charges, and they'd try and try again to make their marriage work. Drugs entered the picture and one night Frank finally went too far. After nearly killing her, Mary had had enough; her girls had had enough. Frank was arrested and convicted and sent away. He got out after a while and continued making her life hell. He still pops up every so often but she has learned her lesson and learnt it well. Mary is now a grandmother, at the ripe age of 45, to three beautiful granddaughters by Cristi and Scott, and two handsome grandsons by Chastity and Jason and LaValle. Cristi is expecting her fourth child in July and--and here's where it gets tricky. Mary has cancer. She has been battling melanoma for the past three years and we were all hopeful she was victorious. Now, sadly, she has it in her brain. Two tumors there and now also two or three have been found near her stomach. Brain surgery eased some of the fluid build up on New Year's Eve and radiation is supposed to be helping to shrink those pesky brain tumors. Nothing has yet been done for the stomach ones, although chemotherapy is being investigated. Long story short, Mary is living on a lesser time span than most of us hope to. Kassie told me today Mary's doctor told her yesterday two months to a year is expected. We three and Ash got together today and had lunch since Kassie was in town. Although snow was predicted, Ashley and I drove to B-ville so I could see my sisters. We had a nice lunch. They both had club sandwiches and when Kassie saw me looking at hers, asked if I'd like a bite. I smirked and said, "You and Mary don't seem to have any trouble opening your mouths that wide but mine is so little I'd never get a bite." Yeah, I set myself up for that one. But it was fun. It was nice being with them for the short time we had together. Will it happen again? How much longer will my world have Mary in it? I cried today. It's been a while. I had lain down with Steve for a nap but couldn't get the pictures we took out of my head. The tears came, hot and furious, while my body shook with pain. He held me and let me weep. I soon calmed but couldn't sleep. So, here I am, writing about my sister. She's trying so hard to be brave! During our phone conversations she has been talking more and more of heaven. I'm so glad she's saved! Thank You, God for making her place ready. While we were saying our goodbyes, I noticed an urn on the shelf above the cashier. It said, "Ashes of unhappy customers" on it. I pointed it out to Mary and said maybe we'd get her one like that. Joking about her urn? Gosh, Stef! But it wasn't as bad as it first sounds. Mary and I have already discussed her final arrangements and this was another opportunity to finalize some of them. Not exactly what I had in mind but it worked. We all group hugged, said our "I love yous," and snapped a few pictures. Will this be the last time I see Mary? If so, it was a good time. Yes, her face was swollen and misshapen from the steroids and the radiation. But she was calm. She doesn't act afraid or bitter. She acts normal. She smooched me on the cheek, if you can call it a smooch. Ever the comedian, she made a loud popping noise against my skin. With others she can be loving. With me, she holds back. But I know she loves me. Even though I have to say it first when we say our goodbyes on the phone, I know she does. Even though she often puts me last on her list of calls, even though she takes her frustrations and anger out on me, I am grateful. She is free to be herself with me. Nothing is off limits. No pretenses are made. She's Mary. She's my sister. I have never known a world without her. And again, she's blazing the trail for me. She's going to see Jesus first. I bet she'll tell Him all those fights were my fault! Good thing He knows the truth though. She's going to get her mansion first. Par for the course, huh? On earth I got her hand-me-downs. She set the mold for my schooling. She got married and had a kid before me; became a grandma before me. She's done many things that I would have never attempted to do. She raised her girls the best way she knew how. She has forgiven much more easily than I have been able to. And she's sought restoration for the harms that have come her way, the wrongs that were committed against her. She's more of a woman than I am. No wonder You are taking her, Lord. She's almost perfect. She's nearly ready. I will miss her horribly but to be with You, for her to have no more pain, for her to enjoy the fruits of her labor I will let her go. She will be safe with You. Take her gently, I pray. She's my sister. You are our Father. It's only a temporary separation. But oh, God, I am gonna miss her!