Impossible To Verbalize Right Now.
I Am Still Alive And Feelin’ Sorry For My-Self.
I Do Not Deserve My Life!
Not When Madelyn Gave Up Hers. Godamn IT!
I AM Crying!
I Am not supposed to do that!!
“It is a Sister Kind of Day!
I Miss Her So Fukking Much!!!
I Loved Her So Fukking Much.
Just Shoot Me! In the Head!
Twice!
Thrice!
However Many Times You Need.
Take Your Time.
Do It Right.
*****
“How Do You Hold A Moonbeam In Your Hand?”
You Can’t.
Trust Me:
I’ve Tried
I still miss her.
“Maria” (And some guy)
Madelyn & Me!
Me & Madelyn!
On-The-Stage!
Stars!
She & Me!
Me & She!
We had to share The Spotlight, but
“The Play”
Was always about
HER
Not Me
As it should be.
*******
She ‘Maria’ to My ‘Cap’n Von Trapp’
“Sound of Music” HS Play: Circa 1975
(Every so often, Script demanded we ‘kiss’—We never did during rehearsals.)
During one rehearsal, when the script DEMANDED a kiss, and RIGHT NOW!
We didn’t. We did not kiss.
Some fellow ‘actor’ shouted, “Hey! Y’all didn’t do the kiss! How are Y’all gonna do a believable kiss on stage if you don’t rehearse?
Madelyn didn’t miss a beat and coolly replied,
“We rehearse our kisses every night.
When we are at home.
Alone.
So don’t worry.”
Opening night, we kissed, not unlike two horny teens. It was painful. (For her. Not for me! I had been waiting for years to kiss her!)
And right before we kissed, live on stage, in front of about three hundred audience, she whispered to me,
“You better not slip me no tongue.”
So… guess what I did?
Yep.
“C’est Française, n’est-ce-pas?“
She was NOT Amused, but she pulled it off, non·plussed
As if nothing untoward had just happened.
*********
OK. I am sober now. Slept off my drunk.
Easy.
I have Slept Off thousands of drunks in my day.
Got that routine down pat.
Could not sleep off my sorrow over losing my
MY
My Dear Madelyn:
New unchartered waters for me.
Never have I lost a sister.
My heart is broke, but this is not gonna be about me.
Lord knows I write too much about me and my narcissism.
This is about My Sister, My Madelyn.
My intent is to write and write and write about her for the next few days until I run out of virtual ink in my virtual pen.
Some of you out there in ‘Radio Land’ knew her.
If you have any memories to share, now would be the time.
This may come across as ‘sick’ to you, read in the harsh light of present day:
But, if I am being honest with my feelings, I must write them.
Since Madelyn and I were not actually ‘blood relations’ there were more than a few times when we were tempted.
Tempted to be much more than step-brother and step-sister.
There for damn sure was a mutual physical and cerebral attraction.
But… we were ‘mature’ enough, even back then, mature enough to understand that we could not go there, however much we, at times, desperately wanted to.
We wanted to ‘go there.’
Oh My God!
How we wanted to ‘Go There’!
But We didn’t.
It would have been so easy.
We had the entire third floor of Marcom Manor to ourselves.
The parents were often gone for days at a time.
Leaving us to ‘fend’ for ourselves.
For the sake of ‘The Family’… we didn’t.
Go there.
We didn’t go there.
Some small part of me wishes we had.
But if we had, this would be quite a different post than the one I am writing right now.
Over all the years there were so many things I wanted to say to Madelyn, but shit always seemed to get in the way.
Now, my mind is racing with all those words left unsaid.
Never to be said, at least not in this place, this alone place I find me in.
I suppose I can just cast this one out into the ether:
“Madelyn, I love/loved you!”
But she cannot hear me now, can she?
“How do you hold a moonbeam in your hand?”
********
This Song very well, and very accurately, describes Madelyn.
She was always a ‘Problem.’
But!
She was SO Fucking charming!
Could NEVER be angry at her.
Never!
Not for a moment!
She could melt / play you with a smile.
(And she knew this power she had)
And trust me Folks,
She wielded it.
With reckless abandon.
(Much to my chagrin at times)
I could never get away with shit.
Madelyn did.
Every day!
Every-Fucking-Time!
How do you hold a moonbeam in you hand?
**********
I cannot continue this.
At this moment.
But I will come back.
And sooner than later
***********
Gretchen:
“Madelyn had a horse once: a cross between a Shetland pony and a Welsh mare. Now, I really don’t know much about horses and during that time I knew even less, but I really did want to play cowboy, so I decided to make friends with the local “real cowboy” and have him teach me how to ride this animal. I was about twelve going on thirteen at the time.
The problem with this horse was that it was a pet. Madelyn had talked my father into buying it for her not long after she and her mom moved in (I was not yet on the scene; was still living with my grandparents.
I suppose I arrived some months after the horse). Anyway, she soon lost interest in Gretchen (is that a proper horse name?) hence, she (Gretchen) never ever got ridden; (I cannot speak for Madelyn.) This will become important later in my story.”
***
Leroy:
First he was taken by Kim. Kim got bored with him and gave him to my step-sister Madelyn. She thought he was just the coolest thing ever!
For about three days…
His coolness factor having for her it seems, a very short half-life, I made her an offer she couldn’t refuse for her coon: Cash Money. Money’s coolness factor has no half-life. She was only too happy to surrender Leroy to my care for the tidy sum of thirty-five bucks. Quite tidy indeed to an unemployed High School girl in 1974.
********
My heart is broken.
I miss you Madelyn!
You were so much more than my sister.
I was so forever in love
With
You
With You
Madelyn-In-My Mind:
Street Cred: Chris Isaak
***
OK. Now I am Drunk again.
Seems I have come ‘Full-Circle.’
I am gonna stop fucking around with this post and just wallow in my grief.
I miss My Sis
DWSTEVE
I am Fuckin’ fucked up.
I miss her!
My sister
I miss her!
She was such a bitch!
I was in love with her!
Goddamn it!
I miss her so Goddamn Much!
Dear Friend DFWSteve
Thank you for ‘getting’ it and understanding
Sorry for your loss
Sorry for mine
Man I get it. When you lose a sibling, it is different. You always expect your parents to go first. But a brother or sister, that’s different. I lost my younger – and only – brother a year and a half ago Mom found him in his kitchen. Lived alone. Died alone. Just fell out at the table. The sadness always lingers for me.