My Sister Angela
1969
When I was seven years old I received the biggest shock of my life. This was so sudden and without warning. I was no longer going to be the baby of the family anymore. My mother was going to have a baby. I remember thinking that this was OK. If she had a boy, I would still be the youngest girl. The big day finally came. I remember Dad took Mom to the hospital. It was December 15th, two weeks before Christmas. My sisters Peggy and Debbie and my brother David and I waited by the phone for what seemed like an eternity. I kept chanting to myself “let it be a boy”. My brother and I were the only ones that wanted a boy. Peggy and Debbie wanted a girl. The big moment finally arrived when the phone rang. Peggy rushed over to the phone and answered it. She had a brief conversation with the person on the other end, and then hung up. Peggy looked at us and said “Angela Gail Jones has arrived”. My heart sank. Not only was I not the youngest anymore, I wasn’t even the youngest girl. I lost my rank, my title, my place.
When Mom came home from the hospital she didn’t have the baby. I remember thinking that it was alright with me. I would still be the youngest. I would be her baby. As it turns out, Angela had a heart murmur that needed looking into. She had to stay in the hospital for a few extra days. When it was time to bring her home, Dad and Peggy went to pick her up. Mom was still recuperating. I’ll never forget the moment Dad and Peggy walked in the door with her. They had her in a Christmas stocking. Everyone gathered around them. I sat on the couch. This baby was ruining my life. It was taking my place. Everyone had forgotten about me and all of the attention was focused on my replacement.
1972
By the time Angela was three years old and I was ten, we had spent quite a bit of time together. She and I played school together. I was the teacher, of course. She was the student. She was a fast learner. It wasn’t long before she was reciting the alphabet, writing the alphabet, and writing her name. I’d like to say I was a good teacher, but this kid was like no other kid I’d ever seen to this day. Most kids at three years old just want to play. That’s it, nothing else. She was eager to learn. When I think back, she was special, unique.
1976
When Angela started first grade, she was seven years old. She should have started school the year before but Mom wanted to keep her home. I don’t think Mom was ready to let her baby go just yet. Mom also had to admit that she enjoyed having her with her at home. For some reason that I don’t remember, I walked with Mom and Angela to school that first day. Even though this kid didn’t know anyone yet, other kids seemed to be drawn to her. It was astonishing. She was like a magnet. I have to admit, I was drawn to her too. A week after school started, Angela didn’t want to play school with me anymore. She said I didn’t do it like her teacher did. It didn’t surprise me when she brought her report card home with high marks. By the time her elementary school years ended, Angela was very popular with the other students as well as the teachers.
1980
Angela and I didn’t always get along. We loved each other but we had our share of arguments. We didn’t have anything in common. I was happy with a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and tennis shoes. Angela felt like I should fix myself up more. We had many an argument over how I should “take better pride in my looks”. She may have been seven years younger than me but she acted seven years older than me. One time Angela decided she wanted to fix my hair. I gave in and let her do it. With just a brush and some hair pins she turned me into a model. I had to hand it to her, she had the right stuff.
1981
When Angela was ready to go into sixth grade Mom decided to enroll her into a private school. The reason for this was due to the Desegregation Act which forced many students to be bussed to other schools to balance out racial quotas. In doing this most kids would be forced to travel much farther away from home. Angela went to a catholic school that was a block away from home. She came home one day and told us she wanted to try out for cheer leading. None of us thought she would make it since she had no prior training, but Angela made it on the cheer leading squad. There was only one glitch. Angela had to keep her grades up. That was no problem. Angela always maintained high grades.
1985-1988
By this time, Angela was fifteen years old and ready for high school. I’ll never forget the time we went for Open House. She told us she would be popular. She told us that everyone was going to know who she was. She walked through those halls at Open House and introduced herself with a big smile on her face to everyone she passed. During her freshman year Angela was on the Basketball and Football homecoming courts. She was also a member of the drill team. In her sophomore year, Angela tried out for cheer leading and made it. Again she made it on the football homecoming court. It was the same for her junior year. Angela was a go getter. Everything she wanted she went after and got.
In 1987 our family received a devastating blow. Our dad died of a massive heart attack. He was working in an elderly woman’s yard when he died. The elderly woman called our home to tell us to go to St. Mary’s Hospital. After the funeral, everyone was still in shock. I remember Angela waking up and her eyes were all puffy and almost closed shut. I looked in the mirror and mine looked the same way. By the time of Dad’s death, Peggy and Debbie had long been moved out. Peggy and Debbie were each married with two children of their own. It was just Mom, Angela, David and me at home now. All four of us looked like zombies. Somehow, someway we were surviving.
By the end of Angela’s high school career, she had been on the newspaper staff, executive staff,cheer leading, and yearbook staff. Her grades never suffered at all. Angela was everything I wished I could be and never was. My jealousy of her had long been over. Not only was I proud of all she had accomplished. I was proud that she was my sister. Angela graduated from high school in June 1988. It was a bittersweet day for us all. Dad wasn’t there to see her walk down that aisle with her class. We knew he was there in spirit. We knew that he was sitting there with us. As we sat there and watched her get her diploma, we knew this kid was going places. This was confirmed when we received the news that Angela received a full four year scholarship to go to college. Angela decided she wanted to be a Registered Nurse. A couple months after graduation Angela entered Spalding University.
The next time the family was together to celebrate was the following September for my wedding. It rained all day. I don’t think I ever remember a rain so hard or one that lasted as long as that one did. My grandmother once told me that it was bad luck if it rained on your wedding day. I told my fiancé’s mother who assured me that in Michigan where they were from, it is good luck when it rains on your wedding. I never believed in superstitions but for some reason it made me feel better.
On December 15th, Angela’s 19th birthday, I went to visit her at Mom’s to give her a gift. It was just a peach scarf and matching gloves. I knew it was her the minute I saw it. It called out her name I guess. I handed her the gift and she just loved it. She took out an outfit from the closet and showed me how well it looked with it. She hugged me and left out with a friend who came by to take her out for awhile. That was the last time I saw her. On December 17th another devastating blow came. Angela had been killed in a car accident. The police said that in all of their years in service, they never saw one this bad. The girl that was driving survived. Angela was the passenger. At the funeral home there were many stories told by her friends. The one I remember the most was that Angela was upset over Dad’s death. She said “If I die don’t be upset, be happy for me. I’ll be with my dad.” Even though high school was out six months before, her teachers, the principal and most, if not all of her classmates, including the valedictorian, were there. Every one of these people said the same thing. They loved her. All the classmates told us she had always taken the time to be there for them. Every one of them said she was their best friend. To me this was quite a testimony on Angela’s part. I can honestly tell you if I had died six months after I graduated from high school, very few of my classmates would have come, not to mention the principal.
My mind takes me back to that day in 1969 when I found out Mom was going to have a baby. Then my mind jerks back at the coffin that lay before me. It is then that I realized that Angela left my life the way she came in it, suddenly and without warning.
