GR 1986-2011

One year after her death, thinking about my late sister.





I was in charge of picking the music for her funeral (except for a couple of songs that my family picked....).  I thought of including this but I left it out.  Probably because of the lines ....

"A little less than a human being
A little less than a happy high
A little less than a suicide"

...  even though in retrospect they're probably perfect. From what I understand Jill died, most likely from toxicity from an overdose of local anesthetic complicated by a bunch of other medications she was taking for poorly diagnosed and treated psychiatric disorders.  We probably will never know what her intention was that day.....but it seems unlikely that she was trying to kill herself.  She had plans later that day with a close friend.  There was no note.  She'd talked to my parent's that morning about their supper plans and whether they'd be home or not.  And all the meds they found in her system were ones she seemed to have been using for some time. She was found by my parents in the backyard of their house, early in the evening of a hot sunny day, with the stereo blasting away on the patio.  Most likely she was using this medication to numb pain from self-harm, or for the buzz of a mild overdose and just overdid it.... but really....we don't know....and we'll never know.

The thing for me is, she really hadn't been any part of my life for quite a while before this happened.  The last time I really saw her was at Christmas, when she showed up at my parent's usual Chinese restaurant on christmas day for their annual chinese lunch.  She'd been living in their basement for some time since then....with a big chaotic move that of course happened to be the exact same weekend my brother and his wife moved from their tiny apartment to their first house.  She was at my parent's house but I never really saw her. 

....


We weren't really on good terms you see.  The last time my wife and I had dealt with her before that....was with her on my doorstep demanding we give her my parent's dog Grover....with a police escort.  She had commandeered Grover a few months prior from my parent's house.....because in her opinion he was her dog and he was happier with her.  Grover was a really elderly fellow.  With 3 legs and terrible sight and hearing.  He was pretty much happy as long as somebody kept food in his bowl and a rub on his belly ready for him. But Jill thought he was hers and my parent's decided to not declare war over his ownership. 

However.....that fall, my parents took a trip to Japan.  And as things usually were with Jill when it was most inconvenient, it was time for something to happen.  So....my wife got a call saying that she had to come and pick up Grover STAT!!!!!! from my second cousin(whom she'd never met)'s house because Jill was going to rehab and obviously couldn't take her dog.  So....my wife picked him up.  No big deal...we've got two dogs....what's a third?  And anyway, we knew my mom missed him terribly, so she'd be very happy to have Grover waiting for her when she got back from vacation. 

Yay.  All's well that ends well....except that about 24hrs later....we got a call from Jill. "I'm coming over to get Grover".

"Like hell you are, what happened to rehab?"

"He's my dog and you have to give him back to me"

"We took him because you were going to rehab....Mom and Dad are back in a couple days, how about we keep him until then, and you sort it out with Mom and Dad when they get back from Japan..."

"If you don't give Grover back I'm calling the police!!!!!!"

"You know what...fuck it...come get him. ....  I really don't care enough to fight you about this"

....

So...a couple hours pass....and the doorbell rings. 

Answer it...who's there?  Jill of course.  And a cop car...with a big fucking spotlight lighting up the entire front of the house (and any room with a window) like it's the Super Bowl. 

"here's your dog.", coax grover out the door, shut door.

A couple seconds pass ... knock on the door....answer....cop there

"Um...you can't just take somebody's dog"

"She asked us to take him cause she was supposed to be going to rehab"

"Oh?!?!, well...if you're concerned about the animal's welfare you can call the humane society and they'll check in on her house"

"We don't know where she lives, she asked us to take the dog so she could go to rehab.....she demanded the dog back...we asked about rehab....and then we gave the dog back"

"Um...you can't just take somebody's dog"

"Sorry for the trouble officer, I'm sure it won't happen again..."

End of story. 

...


So yeah...that was it....pretty much the last real interaction I had with my sister.  Sure she was at that Christmas supper....but it was about as awkward as a cow on rollerskates.  We didn't speak to her at all except a cursory hello.  And she was around here and there at my parent's house....since she had decided to move back home.....but she was usually out at an alcoholics anonymous meeting when we were there, or if she wasn't we really just tried to avoid her.  (interestingly...nobody in my family had ever seen her drink even slightly more than socially.....we suspect she joined AA for the acceptance and attention she found there)

And now...she's gone.  And she's not coming back.

It's still very hard to get my head around.  I think of the past 12 months, and everything that's happened in my life....and I can honestly say, with 100% conviction that all things considered I'm happier today than I was the day before Jill died....I mean seriously.  I'm a father now.  My career is pretty damn good.  I'm on a couple rec sports teams that I really enjoy.  My wife is a wonderful partner in everything in my life.

This isn't to say I'm happy Gillian's not around.  There are definitely times when I think about her and feel sad that she's gone....but there's just as many times that I'm .... not glad.... but relieved.  Her behavior was erratic and bizarre and inappropriate at times and I'm glad I don't have to restrict her access to my daughter like my other sister had to do with her kids.  I'm glad I don't have to worry about emergency 3am calls that she's in the hospital with some (likely self-inflicted) injury.  I'm glad that I don't have to worry about her calling the police on my parent's about some made-up thing just because they wouldn't do what she wanted some day. 

I have my memories of her as a little girl....and that's where she'll stay for me.  In all honesty...I said goodbye to the Gillian I knew when I left for college ... I was 18, she was...11.  I only really saw her at holidays and for bits of summers after that.....and along the line....she changed... from the little girl I knew, to a confused and troubled teen....to a troubled and self-destructive adult, and now to a person who is only spoken of in the past tense.  Of course it's sad.  Of course I wonder if there's anything I could have done  But you know what....it's too fucking late for any of that.  Maybe there is and maybe there isn't.  I tried.  And my parent's tried. And my siblings tried.  And "the system" tried.  But, in the end, she pushed everyone away enough times that they either stopped trying to help....or they helped her in whatever little compartmentalized  way she'd allow....

And I wonder....what her last few hours were like....did it hurt?  Did she know she'd gone too far this time?  Did she cry? Did she beg for a reprieve .....just one more second chance....from her god, her mother, or any passing stranger? Or...did she just drift away peacefully on a happy cloud of numbness?  We'll never know.  The only way to find out is a one-way trip and it's not one I'm planning on taking. 

So....we hope it was....okay.  Because she was unhappy...and now her unhappiness is over.  Instead, it is divided among everyone who misses her....her friends and relations who look back upon her life and its unreached potential and hope we can take what we learned from our time spent with Jill to make the world a little better.....for ourselves, and for everyone else we love.