Eulogy for my Sister

Cathy:  Her Brother’s View

 The relationship between a brother and sister is at once both complex and simple.  If one takes the letter R out of brother you get bother.  This is the simple part.

In the fine art of bothering, the second highest goal is to get your sister to laugh so hard, she snorts.  This usually leads to achieving the top goal of bothering that I will discuss later.

Other than great parents, a wonderful sister, Ruthy, and a love of Alaska, the most commonality Cathy and I had was our humor. This humor developed over many years and that humorous side is what I want you to know about Cathy.  I will describe the essential humor-developing-events through my eyes.  If the tables were turned today and Cathy was speaking about me, the events would be the same, but the details and interpretations might differ.  These were some of Cathy’s favorite stories to recount.

My earliest memory of Cathy is showing her my new button shirt.  I strutted my stuff to her.  She convinced me that any new shirt would look much better with the buttons cut off.  She handed me her scissors and I cut them off.  She said I should now go show Mom and Dad my handi-work.  I went downstairs to show off my new tailoring skills but was surprised when they were, so to speak,  less than impressed.  I learned that day that one should not cut off buttons from new shirts and expect to have a long life.

Saturday was the day we went into town.  Usually we three kids, Cathy, Ruthy and me, sat in the car while Mom and Dad ran their various errands.  This time, we went to town in Grandpa Erickson’s new, shiny, red and white, big-finned Dodge.  For what seemed days to me, but was likely 10-15 minutes, I had to go to the bathroom (#1) while waiting in the back of Grandpa’s car.  I sought advice from my older and obviously wiser sister Cathy about my options for relief.  She was at first non-sympathetic to my plight.  But after constant questioning by me, she said in an exasperated voice, “just to go on the floor” and it “would be OK”.  Wow, why didn’t I think of that right away!  Needless to say, Grandpa Erickson and Mom and Dad were not of the same opinion of the validity of that option.

Once while helping Grandpa Erickson with some task on his tractor, something didn’t work out as planned and made Grandpa throw a hammer and say new words I had never heard before.  For some reason these new words were burned into my memory.  Of course I had no idea of their meaning.  I shared these new words with Cathy when I got home later.  Needless to say, she was quite impressed!  She urged me to share my new expanded vocabulary with Mom and Dad.  Now I also need to explain that Mom and Dad had guests from the church visiting that evening.  So urged on by Cathy, I proudly walked into the living room with all present  and announced my newly acquired expanded vocabulary words.  As best I recall the next events, I was the first human in history to be teleported, teleported instantaneously from the living room to the bathroom where it took a while for me to remove the grit from the lava soap from my teeth.  Again, thanks for the advice Cathy.

Cathy exhibited great compassion and caring for all those she met — including, on occasion, me.  Cathy had a blue and white Schwinn bicycle.  She reluctantly gave me a ride on the back of this bike.  I fell off the back and hit my head on a rock in the road.  I got up woozy, but Cathy and I agreed to not say anything because then we wouldn’t be able to go over to Grandpa and Grandma Erickson’ s later and play king of the hill in the sandpit across the highway from their house.  We went to  Grandpa and Grandma Erickson’ s that evening and sure enough, we took off for the sandpit to play.  I got halfway across  the highway and fainted and I hit my head on the road for a second time ( this explains a lot about me).  Cathy was literally a life saver as she drug me to the side of the highway, in what passed for her version of safe, where I remained until I woke up while she continued on to the sandpit and played.  What compassion!

Later when Cathy was driving her first car, named George, an older blue Buick with fins, she needed to go to a shower or some party.  I jacked up her George, just high enough that the back wheels just touched the ground, but couldn’t move the car.  As usual she came out of the house in a hurry because she was late.  She jumped in the car and put it in reverse and slammed the accelerator. The rear wheels just spun in the air.  I was hiding behind a tree giggling until I heard Mom and Dad roar at me to get the car back on the ground.  Cathy said she would get even with me.

Cathy began dating and she met the love of her life — Cliff.  Cliff was cool and I liked him a lot and I thought it my man-duty to expose Cathy’s occasional bad behavior (in my opinion) to Cliff so he could make an informed choice about his future partner.  So when Cliff visited Cathy, I hung around.  This incensed Cathy.  So whenever Cliff looked my way, Cathy would give me stink-eye looks and then when Cliff looked back at her she smiled sweetly at him.  I did this until Mom made me quit hanging around.

As already indicated getting Cathy to laugh so hard that she snorted is the second highest goal in bothering.  Once, after Cathy returned back to Bemidji after Cliff’s tragic passing, we all met up at Big Falls and had lunch there at the diner.  During lunch, I got Cathy laughing until she snorted and then she lost control of certain body functions that resulted in what might semi-politely be called tinkling and breaking wind.  I had finally achieved the  highest goal of bothering.

I am also happy to report that on my recent visit in May to Pioneer Memorial Care Center in Erskine, recounting some of these stories got Cathy to snort, but she was unwilling to let me know if I achieved the highest goal.  I still do not know and that bothers me — she had the last laugh, darn-it!

Now for the complex part of the brother/sister relationship.  As you may know, Cathy received a kidney from me in 1995 and it worked well until the end.  The kidney purifies  our blood that is moved by our hearts.  Please allow me some poetic license as I think that makes us sort of “blood brothers”.

During one of my darkest hours in my life,  I called Cathy and shared a Bruce Springsteen song with her about how I felt about our unique bond as blood brothers.  After listening, we both cried into the phone.  I think these lyrics best describe the complex part.

We played king of the mountain … out on the end

The world come chargin’ up the hill, and we were women and men

Now there’s so much that time, … time and memory fade away

We got our own roads to ride and chances we gotta take

We stood side by side … each  one fightin’ for the other

We said until we died  … we’d always be blood brothers

 

Now the hardness of this world can slowly grind your dreams away

Makin’ a fool’s joke … out of the promises we make

And what once seemed black and white turns to so many shades of gray

We lose ourselves in work to do … Work to do and bills to pay

And it’s a ride, ride, ride, … and there ain’t much cover

With no one runnin’ by your side … my blood brother

 

On through the houses of the dead … past those fallen in their tracks

Always movin’ ahead and never lookin’ back

Now I don’t know how I feel, …  I don’t know how I feel tonight

If I’ve fallen ‘neath the wheel, … if I’ve lost or I’ve gained sight

I don’t even know why, … I don’t know why I made this call

Or if any of this matters … anymore … after all

 

But the stars are burnin’ bright … like some mystery uncovered

I’ll keep movin’ through the dark … with you in my heart

My blood brother

 

Thank you for listening.