A secret loss

Watching the movie or listening to the soundtrack from "Sneakers" I often think of the loss of River Phoenix and what a waste it was that a young, handsome, talented man died due to drug use. And then I wonder about his brother Joaquin and feel a pain for him I can't ever and don't want to imagine for myself.

I wonder if there have been times where all he wanted to do was pick up the phone and excitedly babble about a movie he's been tapped for or an award he's won, or to just babble. Talk in the secret language of siblings. Share the jokes that will only ever be funny to himself and his brother.

My mother is a middle child, and up until a month before I was born had two sisters. Then, on her mother's birthday, a drunk driver swerved out of his lane and crashed into my aunt and uncle's car, instantly killing Marguerite Morrow-Pruit age 25 and later claiming the live of my newborn cousin Olivia, who would die 5 days later in a local childrens hospital. Then there were two. My mother, and her sister Carolyn Anne Morrow, eventually to be Ocheltree.

Carolyn was the baby of the family, and growing up, I was under the impression she sort of hated all of us. Was it because of her sister's death? Was she just not close enough to my mom to want to reach out and hold on harder? Even later in my life, as I thought we were all becoming closer, she seemed distant and cold. I was so hungry for praise however that I threw myself and my creative talents at her, hoping i could impress her, and sometimes hoping that she and my mother would be as close and my sister and myself.

Sometimes parents only remember how much siblings fight, and it's true, we do. In fact, we're the MOST likely to tear each others hair and throw punches or slaps in the face, but by God, if someone else makes my sister cry, I will hunt them to the ends of the earth. And I think most siblings feel that way.

So I wonder. What broke in my aunt? I see my mom get sad sometimes, looking at pictures of her and her sisters as children. Dressed alike for church, or excitedly standing on the steps of a monument in Mexico. She vividly recalls happy times spent as a child, memories backed up by her friends and family. But all my aunt sees is some twisted wreckage and heaps of ash. Why?

I know my mom would do whatever it took to fix her relationship and to reach out and pull her sister from any danger she could, but Carolyn seems content to throw away her life, her memories, her family and her sister for something, something I cannot identify.

One sister dead, another emotionally dead. It's not fair, it makes me so sad, and drives me crazy.

I can't wait until my sister moves back to town, even if we end up driving each nuts. Because, she is my sister. And I love her.