She's That Cool

The full depth of my emotional neurosis is frankly a little frightening. And maybe it's because I'm feeling super vulnerable about the whole house deal (like the fact that we're submitting an offer tomorrow that, even if accepted, means squat 'cuz it's contingent...which means someone with a non-contingent offer or deeper pockets can scoop it up after I've finally brought myself to the point where I could actually fall in love with another house and leave my beloved little chalet). Which just fucking blows.

I digress.

I've been sitting here in my recliner with a giant lump in my throat...an emotional mess. I've even shed a couple of tears. Real ones.

And you wanna know why?

Because I'm listening to my sister's ipod.

It's the strangest feeling...like I'm invading a little part of her personal space. But I'm not. She gave it to me (being the superstar saleswoman she is, she won a couple of shuffles in her days at Sager and has since upgraded to something fancier, so she passed hers along to me).

She told me before she sent it that she wished she knew how to clear the play list for me, but I can't tell you how glad I am that she didn't.

I've had the volume up so loud I know Mom would be reminding me of all the nerve damage I'm doing to my ears. But it's okay.

From Justin Timberlake to Elvis, Metallica to Paul Simon, Aretha Franklin to old school Run DMC. Eminem, U2, Billy Joel, Sir Mix-A-Lot, Garth Brooks...and some crazy, eerie shit that made me cry even more.

And Neil Diamond.
...we're coming to America...

I can't take it.

So diverse, so cool, so rich and soulful.

It made me realize that there's this whole chunk of her that I don't know, that I'm not a part of, that I've missed. And not because we aren't close...she's my best friend...but because we live so far apart. If we lived in the same town, we'd see each regularly. We'd be all up in each other's business. We'd go places, we'd do lunch or late night drive-bys past old boyfriend's houses.

We'd be together and I'd know what she listened to on the radio.

But she's there and I'm here. And maybe that's why I'm so touched and so emotional about her ipod. It makes me realize how much I miss her and how much I would love to have her in close proximity. I would love nothing more than to have her be one of the regulars...to be a fixture in my home and my family.

She'd have a key to the house (I don't know which one) and everything.

She's the type of woman I'd be friends with even if she wasn't my sister. She's brilliant, sharp as a tack, wicked funny (wicked...make sure you always read the comments for her perspective), deeply emotional and completely devoted to those she loves. I admire everything about her.

She facilitated and paid for me to go to Dallas when the girls were newborns and the weight of postpartum depression was crushing me. She made sure my parents were able to get back to South Africa to provide comfort to Gramma after Grampa passed. She stepped in to do what was needed while Mom and Dad navigated his diagnosis, surgery and subsequent treatments.

She doesn't hesitate...she just does what's needed.

She's been a rock...for them and for me. I'm beyond lucky to have her as my sister and my friend.

And I miss her.

If she were here she'd talk me down from my crazy house fears, she'd tell me to quit crying over an ipod and hey...where's my Cabernet?

We'd crank up the hi-fi...I'd be making up words to some song I don't even know while she jams like a rock star.

Cuz's she's that cool. Really.

I love you, Brighid.


(an ode to my brother in the coming days...I dig him, too)