“Go ahead, try it. I hear they are loaded with protein”, my sister soothingly said to me as we crouched behind the sofa looking at the dead flies on the windowsill. She knew to focus on logic even though I was only 4 and had no idea what protein was. She made it sound as if it was definitely something I needed.
She never appealed to my sense of pride when there was convincing to do. She somehow knew that there was no point in trying that tactic with me. There was never a, “I dare you” or even any sense of coercion. She was a master at mischief and I was her willing stooge.
My sister Gale seemed to have a talent at making things sound like so much fun. Whether it was poking my other sister, Gwen, in her most ticklish spot simultaneously while sitting on each side of her in the car, or heading out on an overnight camping trip late on a rainy afternoon with the dog in tow. Together, we would ignore the sage advise of our oldest sister, Lynn, and plow ahead heedless of the consequences. I knew that every pursuit was going to be packed with excitement and daring.
I was not alone in feeling like I needed Gale. She gathered friends like a light gathers moths. She had an element about her that burned bright when you got near to it. It was mesmerizing, soothing, satisfying and fulfilling.
Gale was one of a kind. She was full of life and adventure. I like to think that I share one strong trait with her: the sense that nothing is impossible. Gale never thought small. Every project or endeavor was epic in size or complexity. But, somehow, she always gathered the resources needed to accomplish the task. The sense that something was a chore never seemed to enter the picture. Helping her seemed natural and expected.
I never projected myself as an old woman of 80, let alone an old woman with elderly siblings. But in thinking about this now, my heart breaks that she will not be there to share this time of life with me. I assumed that she would always be there with that twinkle in her eye and that easy smile, ready for the next adventure. I do realize that one of us had to go first, I only wish that it had not happened so soon.
Gale now rests with her heavenly Father. She is probably busy making friends and gathering family members. I will miss her so much and feel as though a part of me has died with her. But, I will carry on the adventures without her and do my best to make her proud.
2 comments:
I didn't know you had a web presence, friend of mine. I wish it wasn't such a sad occurrence that alerted me. Sending you loads of love now and always. Judi
Hi Karen, I don't know if you remember me, but Gail and I were the best of friends when you lived on the golf course. I have so many incredible memories of my days with your family and of your yard and all the fantasy's two little girls could dream of in such a wonderous place. Having tea in the playhouse is in my mind as if it were yesterday and how Gail and I would take dead snakes and other gross things, put them in jars, 'bake' them in the hot house (above the garage??) and then conjur up spells. One of my greatest memories of Gail was when we were walking home from school and I complimented her on how pretty her dress was. She said "I know". As she saw the rest of us girls quizzically respond when she didn't give us the usual platitudes of "oh gosh, this old thing" or just "thank you", she said "I wouldn't wear it if I didn't know it was pretty". Those words have stayed with me forever. That taught me to not be a sheep and follow the rules of society, but to question, always, what we say and why we say it. I wish I had stayed closer to Gail as we grew up, I'm sure I would have been enriched by having known her as an adult too. My thoughts are with all her loved ones.
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