Well, after sleeping most of the past week, I think I am on the mend. I have been watching a lot of TV. Mostly movies. When you sift through the box-office biggies, you can really find some wonderful gems here and there. "Undertaking Betty" is one of them. Loved it. Love Christopher Walken, well, Christopher Walken in anything, actually, but he is always a delight and a surprise.
I was watching Roll Bounce, don't know if it was a big hit, but I love it. I danced to that music! I was watching it, and thinking how nice it would be to go back to 1978, and start all over again. Maybe change one little thing, and where I am now, would be totally different.
Today was my oldest sister's birthday. I wrote a tribute to her of sorts in another blog I had. We always sent each other cards on our birthdays. She had cats and a retarded dog, and please don't get offended by the word retarded. Most of the people I have worked with who are mentally challenged, have told me straight up, I'm retarded. Well, I mean, they were talking about themselves, or perhaps they did mean me. Damn. Flew right over my head too.
I always sent her cards from the cat, and dog, and me, and some little something or other, and when she received it, she was so pleased.
She was a working woman before there were 'working women', a trailblazer, if you will. She worked as a chemist, at a time when the chemicals she worked with were not known for the hazards. She married a few times, but was basically an independent woman of independent means, outspoken, opinionated, and extremely intelligent. She retired early, after thirty years, but still early, and spent the next years of her life caring for my mom and dad. When I moved in with Daddy, we had a chance to renew our relationship. She was 14 years my senior, and we did have disagreements. But shared many interests, our love for literature, animals, family, and, finally for each other.
She discovered I believe in 2000, that she had non-Hodgkin's lymphoma, but the oncologist was not even sure what kind of cancer it was. Most of her co-workers had already had cancer, or had died from it. Her doctor said he would back her up if she wanted to pursue a lawsuit, but she didn't. She had worked for this company for 30 years, and would not turn her back on them. They tried many different chemo regimens, one of which left her with a white cell count of 100, which if you know anything about blood counts, the normal white cell count is around 10,000. The one thing that kept her going was her faith. She was not a bible toting fire and brimstone spouting born again christian. She just had her faith, and it comforted her.
The last time I talked with her, she sounded so weak, she was on oxygen, but said she was doing ok. My oldest son was going through a particularly rough time, so I didn't go to see her. The next thing I knew she was in the hospital, in ICU, but they were moving her to a room on the ward. I tried to call her but couldn't reach her, and was preparing to go home. My brother called and said she was coming home, and to wait until she got settled. The next call she was back in ICU, and it didn't look good. I called the ICU unit, and after telling them who I was, asked if she was improving. The nurse told me she had just passed away.
So, instead of going home for a visit, I went home for a funeral. She had everything already planned, her casket, the ceremony, everything, so we wouldn't have to deal with it. Not a day goes by that I don't miss her. Our phone calls, the support she gave me when I lost my son, her being there. She was the glue the held our family together, after the death of my parents. She helped everyone she ever knew, in some way or another.
Many people said it was a shame that she never had children. But she did. She had Sunday school students, church members, and most important of all, her family. She was there for all of us, and there will never be another person like her.
The last time we spoke, before we hung up, we said we loved each other. And call anytime, day or night. She would have been 67.