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There was another time when I was out at a bar with my sister and one of her friends. When my sister was younger, she drank Johnny Walker - Black or Red, I can't remember. Unlike me, my sister could hold her liquor. I'm sloppy after about three mixed drinks. Anyway, there were a lot of G.I.s at the bar. For some reason, one of them bet my sister that he could drink her under the table. After 22 shots of liquor, that dude was almost unconscious. My sister might have been wasted, but she managed to stand up and strut (in three-inch heels) to the bathroom without weaving.
One of my favorite things to do with my sister was people watch. We could be anywhere - store, church, hospital - and she would have me cracking up with her observations. Of course, not only was she better at holding her liquor than I was, but she could also keep a straight face while I'd be dying of laughter about something. She'd say something hilarious about someone ("Does that chick know her wig is on crooked?") and then tell me I was going to be on my own if I got my butt kicked for laughing.
More than anything, I remember that my sister had the ability to make everyone feel loved. She was a peacemaker, a "bring-er together-er" kind of person. People confided in her without worrying that she'd betray them. You could cry on her shoulder and she wouldn't make you feel like a lesser person for doing so. Because she didn't connive, bully, manipulate, or 'stir the pot', people trusted her. Because she spoke so softly, people listened. Because she was so strong, people didn't always see her pain.
When I think about Mike these days, I imagine her in Heaven. I think of her with a new body and a new joy. I miss her. Not just today, but every day. Rest in peace, sis.
Peace
--Free