Previously, I have referred to myself as an only child with siblings. The reason being that my siblings are all very much older than myself. My sister, 13 years older and my brothers 11 and 8 years older, and so it goes as well for my cousins. Not only are most of my cousins much older than myself, they all grew up in Joliet, IL or Naples, FL. My father moved our family to the Chicagoland area in 1963, a year before I came into being. Needless to say, I didn’t have many opportunities to develop relationships with my cousins. However, my mother’s youngest sister did have children closer to me in age and her youngest child and I were only one year apart. Or to be exact, 355 days apart, which we proudly boasted.
I was around ten years old when Red and I began to really connect with one another. It was a 45 minute drive between our homes, so we didn’t see each other on a regular basis, but we became more friendly due to weddings and other family gatherings. I distinctly recall us sitting at a restaurant table, away from the crowds discussing our familiarities. The quote that has gone down in history was me saying, “You like carrots? I like carrots too! It’s like we’re twins!”
This was also a time when long distance calls were quite expensive, so we rarely spoke on the phone. However, our relationship developed via snail mail. Yes, we actually wrote real letters to each other, almost daily, for years. For the longest time I kept them, but unfortunately, they are no more. I’m certain they included gossip and gems about the boys and TV stars we liked. I loved Shawn Cassidy from the Hardy Boys and David Soul from Starsky and Hutch. She was more into Parker Stevenson and Paul Michael Glaser, no worries of stealing each other’s boyfriends, whew!
The year was 1978 and the movie Grease rocked our worlds. Red was seeing it over and over again, but I wasn’t that into it. I was more of a Heaven Can Wait with Warren Beatty fan. So it began, we had a contest, who could see their favorite movie more times. I don’t recall who won, but I did end up seeing Heaven Can Wait six times, remaining in the theater to watch it a second time so I could catch up to her. Such silliness, but I was a very young and naive 13 year old and watching actors like Warren Beatty and my all time favorite, Robert Redford over and over again thrilled me to no end.
Red, on the other hand was dating real boys, something I had no experience with whatsoever. I remember going to her neighborhood bowling alley and witnessing her hit on another girl’s boyfriend while challenging him to a game of pool. I was flabbergasted, but envious because she was so outgoing and I was not. Instead, I was bookworm and focused on the matchbook collection she and I shared. It lived at her house and I believe one day her mom made her get rid of it because it was a fire hazard, or maybe she kept the book part, but not the matches. Yet another part of our friendship that is no longer, but lives forever in my memoirs.
I remember one Thanksgiving, I was supposed to go to her house for the weekend, but there was a terrible snowstorm so my parents wouldn’t risk driving me out to Joliet. I was devastated and convinced that my parents hated me. How cruel to not endanger our lives so I could visit my cousin Red! But, we survived and our friendship continued as well as the daily letters. Somehow, we were always there for each other, no matter the distance or the lack of visits.
During our teen years, the divide grew and even more so through our 20’s, 30’s and 40’s, but we always managed to stay in touch. She is a traveler and her work allowed her to visit all 50 states before she reached her 40th birthday. She lived in different states as well, while I stayed put. I married, had children and divorced while she globe trotted, but we always stayed in touch with cards and emails. Ever present for each other when needed.
In our 50’s, we entered a new deeper level of our friendship. Red had brought her parents out to visit my dad, something that hadn’t happened in years, nay decades. It was September 2015 and my dad was not doing well to begin with, but the day they came to visit, was more of a struggle for him than not. We all had a nice visit, took pictures, ate Italian beef sandwiches and shared stories. It was a very good visit indeed. After they left, we had planned to go to a festival and as we started to get ready to go, my dad stopped walking. He took one step and another and then stopped. Suddenly, he couldn’t remember how to walk any longer and that was the beginning of the end.
Four months later, my father passed away. They were a grueling four months, but I was grateful not only that he had been able to visit with family before his time was up, but how much I was able to reconnect with Red during that time. She may live in another state, but she was there for me, this time through phone calls, emails and text messages instead of letters.
Right after my ordeal began, her father had heart issues and her mother began her journey into the darkness of dementia. After my father passed from dementia, Red’s struggle deepened with parental support issues. They went through her father’s heart surgery and her mother’s mental and physical decline. Her family went through the moving of her parent’s into assisted living and their further decline as they sold the family home. The home Red and I had spent so many days playing or going on adventures to the bowling alley and skateboarding down the hilly streets, the streets I totally wiped out on and begged my aunt not to tell my mom. Those days would now be gone forever, no longer could we go into the basement and play games or play with the piano. The house was gone, but I was there for her as she gave me her mother’s gardening hats and cherished kitchen table, I promised to honor it and her wishes to not tell her mother because she wouldn’t be able to remember that she wanted me to have it and get all upset for no reason at all, simply because she could no longer remember. Red was happy to know that I would have the table and with that, I was there for her.
Red went through the passing of her father and I was there. During this time, I was able to be more present for her family, her mother, my aunt more so than I had been in decades. It has been so heartwarming to reconnect with my aunt and get to know her a little better. So mischievous she has become. I took her a dozen donuts on one visit. While she had one in her mouth, she began to touch the other donuts to help her decide which one she wanted next. Red told her that if she touches a donut, she needs to eat it. What did my aunt do? She looked at Red with a donut filled grin and started touching all the donuts. I smiled and said, “Yep, she’s still in there, somewhere.” and realized that we are twinsies. I look more like my aunt than any of her own children do because I look a lot like my mom, her sister. I look at my aunt and see myself in thirty years and I like what see, minus the dementia, of course.
Dementia is an ugly disease. For the person living it, they lose who they are, their memories and all their independence. For the caretaker, they now have to watch the person who cared for them, not be able to take care of themselves any longer and with each passing day, the person they knew, slips away into the darkness of being lost, never to be found again. Yet, we are all there for each other. Whether it be through phone calls, emails, or text messages, we are there.
When my relationship, my future as I thought it would be ended with John “The Pilot”, Red was there for me. I was so lost, so sad, so angry for what I allowed to happen to me, but she was there for me. She would tell me that I was the strongest woman she knew and that I would be okay. I’m still on that healing journey, but I am okay and she is still present for me even though she is facing challenges of her own, she is there.
Recently, they moved my aunt to another state, to live closer to Red so she could take over being her main caregiver. I let her know how proud I am of her for taking on this awesome responsibility and reminded her that I am always here for her. No matter the time of day, I am a phone call or message away because I know first hand how challenging being a caretaker is and I want to be here for her, like she was there for me. How we will always be there for each other, because we are so much alike, like twins that are 355 days apart, who both like carrots!
Now that I think about it, Red is in my circle. Thank you Cuz!
#thelieswechoosetolivewith
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