Our Angel Gets Her Wings

 

Let me start this off by sharing a funny story about Kathy from my book, Life is But a Dream:

(His mother came home from the hospital with his new‑born sister that October morning in 1953. He was two- and one-half years old. He was happy to see his mom, since she had been away for what seemed a very long time. Actually, it was only three days.

 Anyway, he was running around the house, generally causing a ruckus. His mom asked, no, pleaded with him to be quiet while his sister slept in the bedroom. Mom sat in the kitchen crying. He realized that things weren't the way they were supposed to be, so he listened and went inside to watch TV.

He was quiet for a long time. His mom went to see what he was doing. Well, to her surprise and dismay, he was carrying his sister by her ankles in the hall. "She was crying," he said, "and I wanted to help you. So, I went to get her for you."

 Panic seized his mom. However, she had enough sense to reach out and take the baby from him. "Thank you, Frankie," she said, calmly. "That was nice that you wanted to be a big brother to your sister, and that you wanted to help me. But next time please come and get me, OK?")

 That was the first memory I have about my sister. But it is not the last.

 As small children, she was my first friend, and as we grew, as our family did, we would be there for each other in good times, as well as, in not as good.  When I got myself into trouble, as my Angel Sister, she would comfort me. When she was in trouble, I would defend her.

 In our early adult years, we would hang out at the Garden City Chop House. On Friday and Saturday nights, Kathy, Jeff, and I would spend hours there with our neighbor Joe, dancing and listening to great music from the many bands which played there week after week. And on Sunday mornings, the three of us, would trek to the Tulip Bake Shop, tired and with no sleep.  Oh, did I mention that Kathy and Jeff were still in High School and under eighteen?

 Anyway, there was one night, when Jeff and Joe decided to see how many Rums and Cokes they could drink. Kathy, sensing there would be a problem, called home to have our Dad come to pick her and Jeff up. (By this time, I was working overnight at the bakery, so I heard about this later.)  Dad came in and witnessed this chug-a-thon and instead of ushering them out, he sat and watched them have at it drinking his Red Label and water, which Kathy bought for him.

 Finally, at 4 AM they got into Dad’s Kingswood Estate wagon. Kathy sat in the front, while Jeff and Joe fell asleep in the back seat. When they pulled into the driveway, after much prodding. Kathy was able to wake Jeff and Joe up. She followed them into the backyard whereupon, Joe walked into the hedges to his house while Jeff continued to the street to leave an involuntary protein spill in the gutter.

 Kathy, in her usual way, helped Jeff into bed and set the alarm for Jeff so he would be able to get to work on time. When the alarm rang what seemed like two minutes later, Kathy came to wake Jeff up so he would be able to get to work on time.

 Kathy would be there for her younger brothers and sister, too, whenever any of them needed to be bailed out of a difficult situation, which they would remember and could share the intimate details of their own experiences.

 In later years, all of us would remember her soft-spoken, gentle way she would be there for any of us. Her favorite means of address to any of us was “Dear Brother” or “Dear Sister”, She even treated her brothers-in-law and sisters-in-law with the same salutation. She instinctively understood that family was not only blood-related but friend-related, too.  She made no distinction in her treatment.

 She is now with our Mom and Dad, our brother Tim, our nephew Steven, our cousins Mike, Tommy, Kerri and Jerry, and all our deceased family and friends sharing God’s Love at the Table of Good and Plenty. Perhaps, as she is fitted with her well-earned Angel Wings, she can put in a good word or two for the rest of us.

 As all of who knew Kathy would agree, that was her way. Always.  Rest In Eternal Peace, Dear Sister.