TEA FOR THE TILLERMAN
Two days ago another of my special friends was plucked by God, in her sleep, completely out of the blue to work from the other side.
One cannot live well into one’s seventh decade without having experienced the physical loss of loved ones…my best friend on earth at the time, in my 20’s…the next best friend in my 40’s…a deep love in my early 50’s….and on and on…but there is ONE that I never grieved. Not really.
My younger sister.
Margaret was 18 months younger than I. We had always been together, UNTIL:
When our family moved to India and I was thrust into boarding school at the age of 7, she was not old enough, at 5 1/2 and so as the jeep rolled away with me staring and watching her screaming face out the back flap, she grew a resentment against my parents that never subsided. A year and a half later she joined me at school and I became her caretaker/protector, solid ground and mother. She was my shadow and we adored each other, we needed each other.
We returned to the US seven years later and the next chapter flipped us both on our heads. I had felt at home in India and THIS LAND with its fancy perfect hairdos and clothing and Captain Crunch and entering a school where everyone seemed to know each other and how things worked, froze my brain. Literally. I had skipped two grades along the way and was known for being ‘exceedingly bright’, but now I froze. I couldn’t think or function in school. The verdict, after a couple of years of trying, was to send me off to ‘the best girls school in the country’ to fix me. I finagled my way into it on my writing.
Margaret had managed America much better than I…as long as I was close by, she was fine, BUT when I left all hell broke loose for her.
She and my mother were suddenly at open war, our relationship broke, and she never forgave me for abandoning her, and THEN:
When she was 36 and I was 37 1/2, she was living in Seattle with two tiny boys and I was living in Charleston as a single mother with two pre-teen daughters, she was diagnosed with brain cancer. Her husband couldn’t deal with her illness, my mother was helpless because Margaret didn’t want her near her and so I was called. For two years I flew back and forth, leaving my girls with various friends, trying to keep things flowing for Margaret and her boys, being with her through all of the gruelling procedures, and keeping my girls and my work in tact. I supposedly had the gift of healing, which I never claimed, and she asked me please to ‘do my thing’….and that did not happen. As a farewell gift to the world my father sent us both on an Alaskan cruise because she had always wanted to see whales. We saw none…but we spent the entire trip curled up with each other…in the cold on the deck…and then in bed…and then, when the cruise was over, she said that she was too.
I never ‘felt’ this loss. Not really. It was blocked. And then today….after the news of this other friend’s passing, I decided to drive to the beach…I HAD TO GO TO THE WATER…and on the way Cat Steven’s ‘Tea for the Tillerman’ played…my sister’s favorite album of all time….and I finally out of the blue….sobbed my heart out for Margaret.
Thank you, God.