Who has been one of the most important people in your life?

Susan, Nancy, Sara

Our birthdays were one week apart. Mine came first and then Nancy’s. The whole week in between was a celebration. We had summer birthdays, which meant outdoor parties, swimming and cake twice in one week. Nancy was my older sister. Maybe it is not a coincidence that my birthday came first. She looked out for me, never left me behind and always had my back. Whether we were making forts, swimming, having tea parties, dressing up, I was included. I am sure it was not always easy, as I was five years younger. There had to be a lot of accomodation to find a place for me.

Nancy’s worldview was one of an artist. She would draw and paint all the time. Her imagination was vast and could convince me of the magic of fairies and how things don’t always seem as they are. One example of this is when we would go out as a family for a drive. My sisters and I sat in the back seat. I was always in the middle and there was never enough room. Not just because there were three of us, but because there were four of us.  You see Nancy had an imaginary friend for as long as I can remember. On our way into town there was a pink house and this is where this friend lived. My dad was even in on this creation. He would pull over in the front of the house and we would open the door to let this friend out. Nancy would share a whisper for future plans of a time to meet again or some secret. I was so convinced of this friend, I would beg Nancy to tell me what was said.

Nancy had a keen sense of what was next, it could be a clothing style, music, a page boy haircut, etc. Of course, since she was older, it is easy to see that would be my perspective. As long as I can remember she was my roadmap.

Every fall I was bereft when my sisters returned to school. The house was so quiet. My Nana and mom were busy with the garden. Preserving food and getting ready for winter. Each afternoon, as soon as my sisters arrived home we became a threesome again. Nancy would play dolls with me, read or braid my hair. When I finally started school we sat together on the bus. I felt confident in her presence. For years we shared everything. Teenage years came for her and while we did not play pretend anymore, we found boardgames to play, clothes to make and cakes to bake. Some of my first crushes were over Nancy’s boyfriends. They were always nice to me, as she never minded (well mostly) me tagging along. And while I did not really understand, she would talk to me for hours on end about them.

The day our dad died, our sister bonds grew even tighter. We were allies, comrades and best friends. My sisters let me know we would be alright, that we would stick together. It wasn’t long after that, though, that things naturally changed.

Nancy went away to college at Kent State in Ohio. In some (most) ways it felt unbearable. She would call and we would stay on the phone as long as possible. She would ask me about what I was reading, making and sewing. An avid reader herself, she exposed me to books that were ahead of my time. I tried to keep up. I was always trying to keep up. It was important to me that we had things in common. For awhile, as a teenager I was only into clothes, music and boys. She listened, but also gently led me to new ideas. Expanding my world with the sixties revolution. All of her talk of the peace marches, sit ins and the Vietnam war led me to skip school and take a two hour train trip to N.Y.C. By some miracle I was never found out! At least not the first time. She would come home from college and we would share stories. We would listen to Bob Dylan, Joni Mitchell, Joan Baez, etc. She would smoke cigarettes or sometimes marijuana and I would think about how cool she was. She was my refuge, always understanding my own rebellion at home.

After college she moved to California and lived at Lake Tahoe. It was here she met Ken and a whole other adventure began. I think it was in California that Nancy committed to being an artist. She continued to draw, paint, weave and sew. Sara soon followed her to California, driving her VW station wagon across country. Once I graduated High School, I was planning to move there as well. Just like they said throughout my life, we would stick together.

While we did not always live in the same town or eventually even the same state, we did all stay on the west coast. Nancy and Sara both lived in Alaska, while I stayed in California to go to school. Nancy then migrated to Idaho, Sara stayed in Alaska and I moved to Washington. We had a triangle of places and often visited one another. Letters and long phone conversations helped sustain us in between visits.  Nancy was always our leader and champion. We supported and encouraged one another, in whatever we were exploring, however different that might be. But here I need to mention that I always wanted to copy Nancy. She was intelligent, well read, creative and took risks. Her kindness and sense of humor was a magnet. We would laugh so hard, we would pee our pants. Regularly. And then we would collapse in a heap together. We were always comfortable together. I think a lot of that was her acceptance, attention and curiosity about whoever she was with.

Sara and I started families and Aunt Nancy would come to visit, bringing all her joy and enthusiasm. I always looked forward to those visits. She encouraged me to keep pursuing my creative passions. To keep adventuring and not become too homebound. When she died, my world stopped. Completely stopped. The thought of being creative or adventuresome somehow did not seem right or possible. When the shock of her death lessened, I began to see the incredible gift of life I had. Nothing was ever going to be the same again, but I cannot even begin to tell you how all of my senses were sharpened. The many shades of green, the bird sounds, the lilacs blooming, gardens to plant and love to give. It was a vast landscape. My tribute to her would be to live the fullest possible life. I did not want to waste a second. To this day, it might not be as piercing or as pressing, but if I take a moment and remember, I know it is this moment that counts.  One of the best road maps for exploring this life. And what a tribute to give to my sister who always had my back.