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Sisters rarely speak of their affection:
More than brothers do, of course, but less
Than those sweet waves that break before expression,
Feelings too routine to need confess.
Romantic love has phases like the moon:
Waxing, waning, full, and gone from sight.
Sibling love is more a simple tune
Hummed silent and unknowing day and night.
But now I wish to sing out loud, and say
All the things that daily I might hide,
That you might see your inner grace my way,
And share with me my gratitude and pride.
Ah, sister! You will always have my love!
This part of us the years shall not remove!
Dorothy,
I still find it hard to believe you are gone, but you gave me so many memories that no one can take away. I remember of course, your visits home, my visits to see you in North Carolina and Florida, but the one thing I will remember most, your dedication to your family. God forbid the person or persons that came between you and them!!!!!!!!!! Lee, Cindy, Cathy, Ashley, Cassie, and Katie knew they were loved and that if anything was wrong, "Mimi" would try her best to fix it or at least make it better.
You will be missed but never forgotten.
Love,
Ann
From Lewis:
I read with sadness and joy the words that were spoken at your mom's memorial service. And as I read, I sensed the feelings within the thoughts as the words were spoken. Y'all did a wonderful, caring ceremony.
As I read the words that were spoken, I remembered events long forgotten; moments that she and I shared and have, over time, shared with others. Events that will live in memory; things that will make one laugh and things that will make one cry.
When we were young, all the boys used her bike to learn how to ride. The end result was a battered, scratched, paint-chipped, banged-up piece of scrap metal with two wheels. Yet, she never complained.
When we were young (back in the olden days of the late 40's), she occasionally ask Mama if she could go to the S-H-O-W (what we called the movie) with Shirley, her best friend. She would do this in front of the boys knowing full well that we couldn't spell and didn't have a clue she was going to see a movie without us.
As we grew older, I remember one of her first 'puppy loves:' a guy named Tim Tom Tabb. I don't remember anything about him, just the name--I wonder why?
As we grew older, I remember your mom and dad teaching Glenda and I how to play pinochle. It was a weekly event; your dad was a Staff Sergeant and I was an Airman Second Class so we couldn't afford to do much else. I've reflected many time on the patience they both exhibited because Glenda nor I had ever played cards and were totally lost.
As we grew older, I remember helping assemble a cardboard stove and refrigerator that Santa brought you girls for Christmas. It was to be a simple task for four grown adults. A few choice words and several hours of "inserting part B into part C through slot F and securing with fasteners H, J & T, we finished. At 2AM, we stood back to admire our handy work--only to discover we had reversed the back wall of the refrigerator: the painted side should have shown from the inside of the refrigerator, not the outside!
As we grew older, I remember playing Boggle: a complicated game. Lettered dice are in a cube. Shake the cube and after the dice fall into their respective slots, use connecting letters to form words. The bigger the words, the more points. Your mama was winning so, in desperation, I formed the word TENDA. Your mom challenged the word. I gave her my definition, which she refused to accept. She did agree, however, if I could use it in a sentence, she would give me the points. Being quick of mind, I formed the following sentence: From now on, you TENDA your business and I'll TENDA to mine. I didn't get any points!
Time passed and space separated us until your mom, Cathy and Andrew moved to Florida. From that moment, our sister-brother relationship was rekindled and our friendship grew stronger and stronger over the ensuing years. We recalled long forgotten moments of our childhood. We discussed our families and the parts of our lives that we hadn't shared because of separation. We discussed animals, politics and God. But most important, we respected each other for the person they were and the beliefs they had. We didn't always agree: she voted for Bush, I voted for Kerry but we respected each others convictions. We used each other for a 'sounding board' and we laughed at each other.
Shortly after your mom moved to Florida, Janet and I went over for supper. Keep in mind Janet had only talked to your mom once or twice. I explained to Janet that 'Dorothy was a little slow and almost deaf in her left ear.' When we arrived, Andrew, Cathy and I sat at the kitchen table and talked as Janet helped Dorothy in the kitchen. While the conversation was good, my attention was on the comedy that was unfolding: Janet spoke to your mom in a loud, clear voice and kept moving to her right side when she talked to her. Your mom, not knowing what I'd told Janet, I'm sure was wondering, "what's wrong with this woman" and kept inching away. After supper, we were all sitting around the table talking. Your mom got up to get something from the refrigerator and Janet used the opportunity to whispered in my ear, "she doesn't seem to be slow." I lost it! I, of course, after wiping tears from my eyes I was laughing so hard, had to confess what I'd done. Fortunately, everyone had a sense of humor and we all laughed together.
Like being around kids as they grown up, one doesn't see them growing. Such was the bond that developed between your mom and I; neither of us realized how close we'd become. That, however, was put into perspective one day by Janet's father, Richard. Janet's parents were visiting and your mom invited us over for supper. As usual, we sat around the kitchen table after supper and talked. The conversation covered an array of topics, jabs, jokes and good natured insults. The following morning as Janet, I and her parents sat on our back porch drinking coffee, Richard commented on the previous night and said to Janet, "I wish you and your brothers got along as well and Lewis and Dorothy." It was then that I realized just how close your mom and I had become.
As I recall the past fifty years, these are just a few moments I cherish. As time passes, events will trigger other memories. Memories that are temporarily lost in the canyons of one's mind but are still echoing, waiting to be recalled.
Like all of you, I miss your mom. I'm going to miss her pot roast, her advise and her ability to listen. But most of all, I'm going to miss her friendship because, I now realize, she was more than just a sister, she was the best friend I've ever had.
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