Meet My Sister, P.J.

           Graphic by Donna

Number 4 of the family is P.J. She is just under 12 years older than I, and I can actually remember her living at home; which I really can't for the older three. As a matter of fact, the earliest memory I have is of getting up one snowy, winter morning, going into the living room and sitting in my little red rocking chair in front of the big picture window and watching the three sisters closest to me in age getting on the bus.

P.J. married at 16, and she and her husband stayed married for over 20 years. They divorced then, and I won't go into any details there. She is now married to a wonderful man who fits into the family like a glove. P.J. is a tax preparer.

I was always just a little bit in awe of P.J. when I was little. I always thought she was so pretty, and I learned a lot about how to put on makeup from watching her and Lois.

P.J. is smart and funny. She has always had a way with animals, and that's how I think of her when I remember her younger years. She always had at least one horse; she took in every stray or wounded animal she found, and she helped the wounded ones get back on their feet. She and her first husband quite often "broke" horses for other people. I can remember her coming in with little green snakes or black snakes, and letting me pet them. Once I told my father a long, involved tale about how P.J. had taken me for a walk in the woods and let me pet a fox. I was about 2 years old. "They can lick!" I told my dad. I must have been convincing, and that, combined with his knowledge of P.J., made him believe me! P.J. was about to get into some trouble until Mom convinced him that it was just a story I had made up.

Once P.J. took a little green snake to high school with her, and during one of their breaks while she was walking down the main hall at the school, the snake raised its head up out of her pocket; the crowd of students in the hall parted like the Red Sea.

Animals weren't the only things that followed P.J. home. I actually remember an afternoon when the girls got off the bus, followed by one of P.J.'s fellow 8th graders who had, uninvited, followed her home. He was a very shy, quiet kid, who simply decided he was going to go home with her.  P.J.was mortified and totally avoided him. She had never had anything to do with him. But he was so smitten with her! Mom and Dad were very nice to him, let him stay for supper, and then Dad took him home. I don't think P.J. said even one word to him! I was about 4 at the time, and I was VERY impressed!

When Alton had his stroke, P.J. is the one who came to our door to tell me in person; and when our father died about 2 hours after we had left his side to go back home, she is the one who called me to let me know. She's the one who sat up with me the night before he died; when, after I had taken my turn sitting with Dad, I found I couldn't sleep. She and I talked about everything in the world, and I think we comforted one another. She told me stories about my maternal grandmother whom I had never known; stories I'd never heard. She and I are the ones who suffer from anxiety attacks and depression. She is the one who realized I was having a migraine at age 8, and told my mother what to do for it. (Mom just knew them as sick headaches, but P.J. used to have to go to the emergency room for shots whenever she got one.)

I could go on and on, I suppose, but I guess I'll save some things for later.

To be continued....