A Sister and a Mother.

A friend of mind laughed at me last Sunday when I saw that Kermit had posted. He’s the eldest of two, if I remember correctly, so I don’t really expect him to understand how excited I tend to get when she writes, calls, or even just comments. There’s just a special bond between my sister and I that…well…I can’t really put into words, other than the fact that as much as I’ve learned not to idolize people…she has always been my first idol, and I can never stop seeing her in that limelight.

It’s her birthday again, and I’ve typed this up ahead of time because at this very moment, I should be on a train up to visit her, along with our sister and parents for the week. Our father had a heart attack recently, and we decided that we’d get together for Easter to spend some time with him. And before you ask, he’s home and his surgery went well. I’m under the assumption that he’s on bed rest or house arrest for the next week or two…to make sure he’s good and recuperated after…well…what was a terrifying ordeal for us.

As I’ve mentioned before, Kermit has a way of doubting herself when it comes to parenting. I remember when we were up for our grandmother’s funeral; she was talking on her phone to her husband about how differently our cousin’s wife treated their one daughter, as opposed to how my sister handles her four kids. You can already see the major differences in the comparison. I think what she got upset with the most was how patient our cousin-in-law was…and though I feel that children are infuriating and run my patience dry, I know that Kermit has plenty to give towards her children; or…at least more than I do.

And I love her for it. Whether she sees it or not, she’s done a wonderful job at being a mother, I think more so because she’s got such a wonderful husband by her side, to help her when she needs it. She’s not alone in being a parent…and I honestly believe she needs to stop dwelling on herself in that matter when it comes to her kids. She’s not alone. She’s raising them with Fozzie, raising them together…and she should be able to see how each child reflects on their parents’ personalities in their own individual way. Anyways…it’s a joint effort on both their parts.

Kermit, you’ve embarked on a journey that is one that I will never want to pursue. But…you’ve got the strength to see it through. We all have our doubts, and in your blog and from listening in on your phone conversations…because what else am I going to listen to until you turn on the wave sounds in your phone…your primary concern is how your children see you. Judging by the smiles on their faces, and the antics you post about…I’d say they see nothing but love for you and Fozzie. I know…I don’t see you guys enough, but I know deep down inside you’re doing a great job!

I love you, and I’ll be seeing you in just a few hours! Happy birthday, sis!

The Big Four Oh.

This year, 2010...the start of a new decade in itself…just so happens to be the same year that three of the women in my family start a new decade in their lives as well. The first of us is my oldest sister…who we will lovingly call Statler, again from our sister Kermit’s blog.



As I was saying, the first to reach her birthday of the three of us is Statler, and incase you haven’t figured out how old she is, then I’m guessing the title hasn’t clued you in enough. ^_~ Oh well. It doesn’t matter, because like any of us in my family, she doesn’t look her age. I think it was only a couple years ago, someone asked for her license when she was buying a pack of cigarettes for her husband. She’s a whole ten years older than me, so I can honestly say that when growing up, we weren’t quite as close as me and Kermit were. But Statler still has as much love for me as our other sister, and I can tell that she’s looking out for me.



Our dad and I will argue day in and out about my sister’s hair. For the most part, I will always remember it as being red and incredibly curly. Even if we have pictures to prove my dad’s accuracy as to when he insists that she was originally a blonde. Despite those pieces of visual evidence, I still refuse to believe him. That coloration doesn’t fit her on so many levels, most of all her personality. Statler is bright, vibrant, giddy, excited, patient and well tempered…which is a strange trait to find in our family…ambitious, and most of all, positive. The red color of her hair just radiates positive energy in my eyes!



She started out going to school for physical education, and I think the only thing that she continued to pursue down that highly active role is taking classes in Irish Step Dancing. And I imagine she’s really good at it, because she’s been really eager for me to come up to see her in a recital. Considering I haven’t received an invitation in so long…I’m wondering if I’ve missed out on the chance to see her dance. I’d really like to. Heh…I remember when Statler and Kermit came to visit me for St. Patty’s Day weekend, the equivalent to New Orleans’ Mardi Gras in the city I live in, my oldest sister was so disappointed in the various schools of Irish Step Dancing that performed during the horribly long parade. (I’m so never sitting/standing through that again.) She explained to us that there is an actual routine made specifically parades, and that dancers are never stop their steps, just because there’s a pause in the walking. Impressive…and I can envision my sister doing it with those bouncing red curls.



And though most of my family is very supportive of my art, my mother still pushing the various character pieces I like to draw, Statler probably owns some of my most ambitious endeavors…or at least offered and given financial support towards a good number of them. Back when I was printing my first comic book, eager to see the third issue complete, she offered to loan me the printing charges for it. Granted, it never happened due to my dorm room’s evil AC unit, and my dying passion for the series…but I’m sure if I could get over the depression the storyline tends to put me in whenever I try to pick it up, I’m sure the offer would still stand.



She also allowed me to paint on the walls of her first house. I never got to work on the idea we had for her dining room, but I was able to complete her guest bedroom. Yes, my mother has allowed me to do so as well with her previous house, but nothing as wonderful and exciting as being able to paint one of my favorite creatures; the dragon. This was more along the lines of the Eastern style dragon, which are as equally exciting as your Western style dragon. When she had the idea of what she wanted in the room that would display her souvenirs from her trip to Japan, she first took me to a Chinese restaurant that had these neat swirling clouds on the exterior of the building. Add those to a couple of dragons, some kanji that reflect the ideals of love, hope, friendship, and peace, along with a bonsai tree on the closet doors, and we’ve got a room sized mural that I was rather proud of. Sadly…I don’t think I can find any of the pictures from it at this moment.



However, I do have pictures of the paintings I did for her new guest bedroom. Her husband…who apparently enjoys the fact that I will freely belch at the dinner table…put his foot down at the idea of me painting on the walls of their new house. Why is beyond me, but I’m doing my best not to hold it against him…because it allowed me to come up with a set of pictures (four of which are missing because she hung them up at her office) that not only took my sister by surprise, but took me by surprise as well. The paint I used was probably not the most ideal for the paper, but it was from the whole experience of working with it on two different occasions that I learned that I absolutely hated it. Yes, it’s nice to have a watercolor like paint that won’t pick up if you dab water over it again when it dries…but it also means you’ve got to be extra careful in how much you take out of the tube. Because like acrylic paint…once it’s out, and you don’t use it up…it dries and stays that way. Ugh. I can’t stand it.



So, because of my dislike for the paint, I wasn’t too pleased with the paintings. To my surprise, it seems that whatever I dislike turns out to be something everyone adores. I never take compliments that well to begin with, but it completely amazed me how much everyone was complimenting me on the first batch of paintings, but even more so on the second batch. It just blew me away, and actually had me smiling after a while. Which leads me to believe that my sister actually brings the best out in my work. She’s always understood my tastes, never forcing me to try something I’ve constantly snubbed my nose on. And for that, I love her. Thank you.



I’ve got a great idea for a quilt to hang in her dining room…so at some point I need to discuss it with you on materials for it. But until then, Happy Birthday, big sister! I love you and I hope today you have a blast!

The Day after April's Fool.

Today is my sister’s birthday. HAPPY BIRTHDAY BIG SISTER!

Her blog name is Kermit, as you might have seen her comment on my first post here. She is the middle of three sisters, being four years younger than one, and six years older than the other, being me.

Ever since Kermit started her blog, she’s been wonderful enough to write up beautiful posts about her sisters on their birthdays. So I decided to give it a try, just to show how much I love my middle sister. Sadly, there won’t be any art in this post, as I hadn’t prepared anything and I realized that any of the sketch books I used that had any art pertaining to my sister are currently in storage. That’s a place I don’t plan on returning to until I’m ready to add more boxes to it, or am ready to weed more crap out of it.

ANYWAYS! Let’s try to keep on track today!

For as long as I could remember during my early youth, Kermit was always there for me. She would play doll house and Ewoks with me, along with some random video games we had for the Commodore 64. She taught me how to make my bed, wash my laundry, brush my teeth, wash my hair, vacuum, dust…a lot. Kermit was more like a mother to me at random points of my life. When Dad was away for work during the week days, I went to my sister for help with my homework. She encouraged my drawings, much like she’s doing now with her own daughter.

And Kermit wasn’t that bad at drawing herself. I’d scan it if I had it here now, but since I don’t, then I won’t; but she drew in one of my first sketch books a picture of a little blonde girl in a blue dress, along with a little story of a brown haired girl in a green dress who went off to find her father. At least, I think that’s how it went. Without it in front me, I’m afraid I can’t remember too well. I just know that I would try so hard to mimic her pictures, because I wanted so much to be like her. I wanted to draw like her, sing like her, enjoy the same music as her, as well as hang out with her friends with her, just like she used to play with mine with me. Though I don’t share her love of jazz music, she is the one that got me interested in Simon & Garfunkel, and I give her credit for the eclectic collection of music I enjoy today.

Kermit was the only reason I tolerated going to church for as long as I did. She has a beautiful voice and I miss being able to listen to it every week. When I later explained this to her husband, he thanked me for sharing her voice with him, and letting him steal her away. I’m still trying to get Kermit to send me a copy of her singing one of the Christmas Songs from Midnight Mass, just so I can listen to her voice again.

It was funny at times, as this little old lady came up to me one day to tell me how much she loved Kermit’s singing. When my sister came out after service, the lady went up and told her everything she had told me, and commented on how I always waited patiently for Kermit to come out afterwards. Thus, she proceeded to ask, “Is she your daughter?” “Well sure! I had her when I was six years old!” My sister responded with a good humored grin. She and the lady had a good laugh before we finally went home.

When she started going to college, she always planned to have me come visit at random points; whenever I had a week vacation and she was still in classes, she’d have me come visit her and hang out with her friends. I adored it, and with her being so close to NYC, Kermit, our other sister, and Dad took me to see some Broadway shows as well.

Things got confusing after she graduated, and I can’t say I know all of the complete details; only because I tend to be in my own little world and am usually the last to know anything that goes on in the family. Together, we are quite dysfunctional. However, I did know that Kermit was getting married, and despite the tension brought on about her choice in faith, churches, ceremonies, and so on; Dad promised to put me on a plane to Utah so I could be there for the wedding as soon as we found out when it was. That didn’t happen.

And nothing was really explained to me until I wrote Kermit a letter about some books of hers I had. I mentioned briefly about my reaction to the wedding notice we received in the mail, and that no matter what everyone else thought or said, I was really happy for her. I mean, seriously. I know that we disagree on several things, but the fact that she found a faith as well as someone in that faith that makes her happy? How could I not be happy for her? She’s my sister! She deserves to be happy in any way she deems suitable for herself, just like everyone else!

The letter she wrote me in response, to this day still makes me cry. The genuine love in her words, the insistent apologies for forgetting how old I really was, and the asking for forgiveness; she already knew she didn’t need to ask. I was overjoyed to learn just how much my sister loved me, how she saw me, and to let her know that I loved her as well.


These memories are what I hold dearest to my heart whenever I think of my middle sister. I hope her family realizes just how wonderful a person she is, and that they never take her for granted. She is a wonderful mother, and an equally as wonderful sister. I should know; I consider her as both. I hope that even if she doesn’t get the gifts on her wish list, that her birthday is still filled with love and joy.