Little Sister

"The feelings that hurt most, the emotions that sting most, are those that are absurd. The longing for impossible things, precisely because they are impossible. Nostalgia for what never was; the desire for what could have been; regret over not being someone else; dissatisfaction with the world's existence. All these half-tones of the soul's consciousness create in us a painful landscape, an eternal sunset of what we are." Fernando Pessoa

This is quite a list; right? I finished reading it and thought that this must be why I am such a happy person, because I don't do any of these things. What a painful way to live.

A dear friend asked me yesterday how I was doing. She knows that I am grieving my brother's death, and how I feel is different from day to day. I am the sort of person, that the longer I process something, the more I become at peace with it. I shared with her some of my thoughts and feelings. About my brother, and how he lived his life. It's safe to say he didn't have the painful existence that Fernando Pessoa speaks of in the quote. I was thinking about his wife and children and grandchildren, and other members of our family. I told her that my younger brother and his wife arrived in Hilton Head yesterday afternoon, and were staying at my sister-in-law's house with her. I was happy she would not be in a big house by herself. So we talked a bit, and she listened kindly as she always does.

She said, "This is just like you, because you have such a generous heart. But I was wondering how Little Susie was doing." I had not thought about it that way. I told her that Little Susie liked it that her big brother was proud of her. My brother was a great fan of my writing, followed this blog daily from its inception, and applauded the fact that I am working on a novel. He approved of everything I was doing in my life; school, work, my family, my life in general.  I didn't think I needed his approval, but once I had it, guess what? I knew I had needed it.

And let me tell you, he was not the kind of person to say things just to make you happy. He could be critical, although as he got older, he mellowed and so he would phrase what he felt a little more gently. But he had no problem telling me he disagreed with me. We had that kind of relationship, where he did not patronize me because I was his little sister. I liked that.

My brother was a man for whom I had a great deal of respect. To think that he also respected me? Well now. That makes me feel really good about myself, and makes me think that while I certainly don't have it all together, I am doing just fine. A while back I got an email from him, just the usual details of his life, and he ended it with, "Your writing, as always, is excellent. I am jealous." Him jealous of me? Wowzers!

My friend said, "Maybe you will dedicate your book to him." I answered, "Maybe I will." And you know what? Little Susie thinks it's a grand idea.

Susan

 

My brother took this picture of me, age 5.