i just finished reading 58 monthly newsletters from a mother to her daughter at
dooce (a website i enjoy immensely). it made me wish i had a legacy like that, and that i had done a better job of recording all the amazing things my sisters did as they grew up. this is my small attempt to rectify that oversight ...
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dearest anniebear,
you are such an amazing person! and you have been ever since the day you arrived here - february 19, 1986. actually, if i am honest, you were so very special to us long before that day. as you know, your mom had a stillbirth before you came along, and that made us a little scared to be too excited, but unable to stop ourselves from being giddy with joy when we knew you were on your way! i have told you the story of the day you arrived before (as i remember it), but i want it recorded for posterity (or for when i lose my mind completely). i also want to share some of my favourite memories of you throughout the years. this may take awhile, so grab a pop (no, you can not have a beer, you are still 4 years old to me) and settle back for some reminiscing.
i was 13 years old and in the middle of 10-months-of-hell-on-earth-torture (also known as grade 8), and still in my routine of one week with my mom, one week with your mom (known to me as marta, or mart-the-tart - long before i knew what the phrase meant. but that is a story for another day) & our dad. you decided to show up while i was staying with dad & mart and i had to wake up and get dropped at my mom's when your folks headed to the hospital to pick you up (you knew you were adopted, right?). but seriously ... i couldn't get back to sleep that night so i ended up staying home from school, and that is how i came to answer the phone about 8am in the morning and had dad tell me you were here!!
your name. anne howard wenschlag. sorry about that. i mean, anne is pretty good and you are named after your maternal aunt - which i think this is pretty cool (having been named after family members myself). but hey, it isn't my fault you chose to have a mother that believes in giving children maiden names as middle names (and really, as rough as it was to grow up a tomboy with the middle name "howard" i think your mom (mundle) and aunt anne (bacon) had it MUCH worse)! and wenschlag? well, you get sympathy from this corner, but at least we are unique - and if you find a wenschlag, you KNOW they are a relative!
i visited you in the hospital the day you were born and was at the house the day you came home. it was beyond words exciting to meet you. your eyes were huge and it was obvious you were one smart cookie! i loved the little "stork bite" on your forehead and thought you smelled so yummy - baby powder and innocence. one of my earliest memories of you was rocking you in the chair in your room, and telling you how much i loved you and how i had waited so long for you show up. the other thing i remember clearly was how you liked to sleep on your side, with a rolled up blanket behind you and your arm over your head like you were cheering at a rock concert or sporting event - one of your cutest early pictures, to be sure.
you were our anniebear, pooh-la-roo, and (most entertainingly) "annie airlines"! you LOVED when someone would lay on their back and hold you above them by your tummy and make you fly around - or maybe you just liked watching us make stupid faces and "vvvrrroooommm" noises. whatever it was, it was adorable and i fell in love with you a little more every time you giggled. and i wasn't the only one - everyone adored you! dad & your mom were still very much in love at that time, and watching them with you was breathtaking! i am amazed i wasn't jealous, but i loved you so much there wasn't room for anything like that (until years later when you got sleep all day as a teenager, got away with not cleaning the bathroom, and had 4 bazillion dollars spent on your hockey and whatnot. yup, still a little immaturely bitter about that one, but i and my therapist are working on it).
you were pretty typical as a kid - making great faces the first time you tried a dill pickle, getting beets ALL over your face and loving every bite, posing for pictures with your curly blonde hair, loving story books and playing with an enthusiasm that still boggles my mind. here are some of my most long-cherished memories ...
when you were in the i-can-stand-up-and-move-around-as-long-as-the-footstool-supports-me stage, you had a set of plastic toys and one of them was a yellow cone shaped horn. the idea was you put your mouth on the small end, blow and it makes a kazoo-type sound. you were a little young to grasp this concept, but certainly mature enough to know that EVERYTHING belonged in your mouth. one day, the horn was sitting on the aforementioned footstool and once you had pulled yourself up and stuck the horn in your mouth, you must have been out of breath - cause you took a deep breath and MADE A SOUND! it was a little odd (seeing as how the air was traveling in the opposite direction), but you didn't care ... you started sucking air through that thing like it was a chocolate milkshake and making this noise that i could never represent with letters. you kept doing this over and over, until you were a little lightheaded and dropped on yer butt. after sitting there, staring at the cone for a few seconds, you stuck it back in your mouth started sucking again! i really don't think you ever learned to blow into it, but it was far more entertaining to watch your cheeks suck in and your eyes bug out as you drew in all the air in you could.
as you may recall, there was a print shop in our basement. i wonder how old you were before you realized this was not the way most of your friends lived? in any case, this mecca of stationery led to many hours of colouring and creating for you. i loved the little light that dad put under the shelf for you - and the stool he made out of a stack of paper. you would sit there and "work" with dad for hours on end. one day, you and i were playing at the light table, and you were drawing up your "patient" charts (yes, for a few moments we all dreamed you would be the doctor you played at being. of course, the fact that you couldn't watch 2 minutes of the 6 o'clock news - or anything else too "real life-y" - without succumbing to hideous nightmares squashed that dream quickly!) you were showing me the symbols for different illnesses - the chickenpox (zigzag lines), the measles (loop-de-loops), and the AIDS (circles) ... i was floored. i actually started crying as i realized that, at age 4, AIDS was just another disease to you. it was the first time i realized why parents want to lock their kids up and keep them safe forever. i admit, i still have occasional desires to do so.
this early spate of creativity translated into the building of a multitude of "things" - dioramas, scale models of EVERYTHING, and artwork as detailed as it was inspired ... not to mention scraps of paper and cardboard everywhere - and GLUE! big gobs of hard glue all over the basement carpet. you really needed a laboratory for your mad scientist efforts. you also went to victoria school for the performing and visual arts for grades 7-12. yes, you are my favourite sister for attending my alma mater (don't tell me meg), even if you were in the visual arts realm while i had terrorized the theatre department many, many, many years before. it is still a treasured connection between us.
how about a word about words? much to my chagrin, i can't remember between you and meg who used which, but one of you called me "cassy" and the other "caffy" - because that "th" is just a little too much for developing soft palates! but the two best words? ke-pitch (catsup) and micka-don-oes (mcdonalds). i still use them. *sigh* so cute! nothing was more fun that driving down st. albert trail with you attentively watching out the window and hearing your gasp when you saw those precious golden arches - "micka-don-oes, micka-don-oes!!"
under the category: making your sister feel awesome. in grade two everyone got to be a "star for the week." your teacher would put up a big sheet of paper with all your important stats and your sheet included the information that you had a mom, a dad, a little sister who was 4, a dog named mac and a big sister who lived in vancouver who was 22. i seem to recall many of your classmates thinking you were making me up, until i came to visit. i am so grateful i was real to you, even when far away.
i moved to the US when you were 14. i missed you more than i can express, and i treasured every visit home. i wish i could have been there for more regular memories, but i can promise you i am a better person, and sister, for having made the decisions i did - and you were loved and cherished every day. we have so many similar qualities - both the good and the flawed - and it makes our relationship intense (translation: we know how to fight) and amazing! some of our best memories are slices of time taken from "real life" (i.e. your visits to LA (U2, anyone?) or grandma kitty's funeral) but others happen naturally during daily interactions (texts that make my day, sleepovers, you making fun of my driving - ah, the list of fun never ends)!
the bottom line is, and anyone who knows me will testify this is true, you and your sister are the most important people in my life. i love you more than i ever imagined it was possible to love someone; and i will continue to love you that way forever. thank you for being my sister, my friend.
all my love,
catharooni
