onelilbirdie
Debbie is dead
Jan 23, 2014
I don't know how else to say it. Debbie was my full-blood sister, although she was never told that. According to my second eldest half-sister, there was a "vote" taken when she was born. The other children would accept her as their sister. However, when I came along and the vote was cast, I was not to be accepted. From the time I can remember, my earliest childhood memories, in fact, I was terrorized by Debbie. She made no bones about how I was NOT a Brown sister, that I was just "Jim's daughter." It was like a bull whip across my back each time this was said.
Is it any wonder that when I went off to school I said, "My name is Robin," not," Hi, I'm Robin, and you are?" Being myself, Robin, was not a good thing, it was an ugly, vile thing.
In our home I learned not to use the bathroom until I couldn't hold any longer. Invariably, Debbie would stand in the bathroom, back me into a corner and beat me. No reason why, ( oh, wait, I wasn't a Brown) just, beat me til my eyes would flood with water. If I cried out, she would beat me more, hit me in the middle of the night and more. I was never allowed to cry out in pain, not allowed to raise a hand to block a blow. NOT ALLOWED.
My half sister Linda called me on the eleventh of the month to tell me Debbie was not well. I thought about this all night long. I prayed, and tossed and turned. The following morning I texted Linda back. I told her that I had an extra room in my house, and that Debbie could stay here with me. I also told her I would not say anything to anyone until Debbie's only daughter had had the chance to meet with doctor's and make decisions based on their information.
For a week my niece spent time with her mother, talking to her about the move, the transition into her daughter's household. Debbie was absolutely against it. The last night in her own apartment she slipped away in her sleep. Debbie was three years old than I.
My sister Linda called me to convey the news. She was absolutely crest fallen. Me? Truthfully, I was numb from the toes up. I can't even put into words the sorrow I feel. But it is entirely on another level; not one that the loss of a sibling should carry. For all these years, Debbie would taunt me with "you're not a Brown." I never said a word. I let it go, because I was told it would crush her to know she was not a Brown girl.
She was my last living relative of my generation. She is dead. And I am only surviving, not living. The world has long been in black and white, no color, for me. Tomorrow is the funeral. I am not going. I never wanted part time family. I don't want part time family now.
I want to walk out in the open air, feel the warmth of the sun on my face and have peace. The peace that comes with knowing I did nothing to harm another human being who caused me such immense pain. I am far-removed from concern of what others may think of me.
I just want to live life, in full color.
Rest in Peace, Debbie Kay. May the angels carry you to a greater sense of understanding. You are my sister.
