Often, when it's late at night when no one is around, I travel back in memory to less complicated times with my older sister Amy. I don't have a lot of scenes to chose from because she first left my life when she was thirteen. In my mind, she was like a super hero.
Let me back up for some context. It was the mid 60's and the most stable thing in our lives at that time, were the two TV shows we watched together no matter what: “American Bandstand” and “The Smothers Brothers”. They gave us a chance to laugh. Even at seven, I was somewhat able to grasp the dry political humor coming from these “folk singers” Brothers.
With “American Bandstand”, Amy and I would literally roll on the floor laughing. Why? Let me explain. My furthest memory of when we'd watch ABC together I suppose it was like any other teenager and little sister throughout America would watch; to hear the new singles coming out and to, of course, critique the dancing girls' outfits, boots, hair styles and dance moves. But then, my sister got this crazy idea to turn the sound off and just watch them dance in silence. It made us laugh for some reason. Sometimes, Amy would turn her transistor radio to a Spanish music station and that would put us in stitches.
But life doesn't stand still. As time went by, Amy would butt heads with my mother more and more often. My mother didn't like being a mother. Most narcissists don't make good parents. But she tried the best she could. She was an interior designer by trade and was moving up. As for Amy, even at that young age, she was able to absorb the outer societal rebellion going on around us as her own. In 1967, Amy tried to shield me from another hanger spanking just to have it hurled across her face. So, at thirteen, she just left to God knows where.
The next time I saw Amy was during, what I can see looking back, were the happiest days of her life. It was 1975 and this time I was the teenager and she was twenty-three. I went to visit her where she lived in a place called Inverness. It is located in northern California about 30 miles northwest of San Francisco. Amy was staying in a cabin in what seemed to be a tropical rain forest. It was beautiful. I hadn't seen her in almost a decade. I was excited. I felt free and ready for adventure.
She picked me up at the airport in her boyfriend's beat up 1963 Porsche convertible. I couldn't make out the color because of the rust but if I had to guess, I'd say at one time it was red. She had wild raven hair and bronzed skin. She lifted her Aviator sunglasses and smiled that sideways Amy smile, “Well, are you just going to stand there or are you getting in?”
I could barely hear over the engine but when she swung open the passenger door, I knew an invite when I saw one. Off we went on highways, byways and freeways. She hated to come into the big city (San Francisco). The whole way, she complained about about smog, the people and the rat race. She felt she had beat the system in bypassing the norm by making jewelry in her little cabin. As we got farther away from the congested city, she became much more relaxed, playful even happy. I hadn't seen her that happy since I was very small.
We made our way through the city portion of Inverness and passed through it's one stop light. From there, we glided passed the west shore of Tomales Bay then wound and wound our way through the hills. Everything became greener and greener. I could feel fresh moisture on my face. It was so liberating.
She introduced me to the new context of her life as if to say, “See, I did what I wanted in spite of Mom.” For me, it was a time of firsts. It was the first time I ever saw a man wear and earring except for the pirates I saw in cartoons. Her boyfriend Gil wore a small stud which glistened between his head full of black hair and the bearded cut of his jaw. He was a musician...of course. His dad wanted him to follow in the family business of being a carpenter. But, like Amy and a lot of young people of that time, he rebelled. Those days, if anyone over 30 had an idea, i.e.,”Plastics”, then any self respecting young rebellious person would zag instead of zig. However, he did built a cabin for my sister. Even the cabin fought against the establishment, it wasn't built under code. Gil ran the electricity from his home up about a quarter mile to her cabin. That's love for you. The cabin was very small but seemed larger because it had high ceilings and was set up as a loft. I liked visiting the cabin except for the part when I had to pee outside.
That night she took me to the (only) bar in Inverness. They didn't seem to notice or care that I was only fifteen. Wearing a tube top and worn out jeans Amy walked inside and lifted everyone's head. It seemed that someone turned up the lights but it was her.
“Are you going to give me a chance to win my money back?”, laughed a very large man with a pool stick.
“No way!”, Amy smiled and said. “I don't need anymore money from you, Ted.”
For a moment she was absorbed into a small crowd. I stood. Then she came and grabbed my hand and introduced me. They were very nice. I was now famous there and called "Lil' A". I couldn't be further from home. It was another first;the first time I felt unconditionally accepted.
We left the bar and hopped into the car. She lit up one of her Canadian “Export A” cigarettes, and turned to me and said, “You know Maria, there are more choices in this world than you've been exposed to. But I don't recommend that you grow up too fast like I did. There's time. I've just always felt bad that I left you alone to deal with Mom. For that I'm sorry.”
“No, that's okay. I...”
“No. Really. I am sorry. We just have today. I just want you to know that there a whole world out here. My way won't be your way. But I can't wait to see what you do! Now put your seat belt on and be ready for a ride!”
As she started the engine and within it's loudness, I wondered if she meant get ready for my life or for adventurous car ride. It turned out I got both.
All the next day, were more firsts for me. The biggest was when we laid topless at the edge of the bay. I remember hoping that things would develop as nicely as hers did. For lunch we had, what she would call, “moonshine-whiches” which was sprouts and avocado on soy bread. A first I didn't really care for. The rest of the day we spent at the cabin where she taught me some basics as to how to make jewelry; mostly wire wrapping. I loved it way more than the macrame I was doing at home.
Life, for the most part didn't work out that well for my sister. The anger that was our mother's legacy, was absorbed deeply by Amy. She had trouble trusting and getting close to anyone beyond a superficial level. She eventually pushed me away. She called me a sell out because “my way” was having five kids and not having a dream that was just about me. She said I was weak.
By the beginning of the new millennium, Amy was diagnosed with von Hippel-Lindau disease. She developed internal tumors and cysts all over her body, including her spine, kidneys, pancreas, liver and lungs. She was in constant pain.
Her disease eventually took her life last March.
I miss her. I think about the better times.
