Monday, July 20, 2009


Dessie died April 20, 2008, one year and 3 months ago. I cannot believe it.

These are pictures from the last time I saw her, when she showed up unexpectedly (and drunk) at my house. Six month later, she was dead. 14 months later, Mom was dead.
Dessie was four years younger than I, and always, until the end, more beautiful and vibrant and alive. She lost herself. I think she's found herself again now. I feel her sometimes. I might feel my mother, but since I never really knew her, except as a childish and selfish person; childlike and sweet at the end, I don't know what she would feel like. I don't feel any great maternal loving spirit around me, though, to my great disappointment and disgust.
I think, "I can't believe she isn't there for us now any more than she was there for us when she was alive. You'd think seeing Jesus would have changed her somehow. No, she's still feeling sorry for herself somewhere in the ethernet of the spirit world."
But Dessie, she's dancing around all of us.


cathycan said...

Anne, what do you think of the attitude of, "She did the best she knew how"? (as we all do) I think that's what Jesus is for. Please don't take this as preachy, I honestly wonder what you think!
Comment on your "recommend" post: I am sending you so much validation that I think I'm gonna need to pay an extra shipping fee! I have so much to say I don't know where to start...well, I'll start with this, anything that is not under the direct, narrow, spotlight of the l"ight" side is the "dark" side to them. My friend Carol said several times over the course of her visit, as she observed Don in action, " ooh, that'd be hard to live with.." I know what you mean about peace.
And yes, I caved. But I feel good about it, haha... hang in there girl!

Bookslinger said...

She may have started out better looking years ago, but you overtook her.

Sunshine said...

Just because you die doesn't mean you will automatically see Jesus. That is what the spirit prison, paradise is all about. At some point she might learn how to embrace him, but... probably not so soon.

Time my sweet friend is all we have. (okay, there's more, but it sounds good)

annegb said...

Oh, Cathy, I know, you're right. I am so conflicted. My mom taught me to love books and music. She played with us. She was just never there for me when I needed her and I need her now.

The other thing I think about my mom is my dad was just a monster to her. I saw it. If she had a husband like Bill, who took care of her, she might have been an entirely different person.

I just want to know her, to feel some support. My mom came from a rich pioneer heritage of temple worthy (crap I hate that, but it's true) people who surely met her and are guiding her on her path in the spirit world. She always spoke of the spirit world and ingrained in us girls a pure understanding of the thin-ness of the veil. She saw dead people LOL.

I appreciate your empathy and validation. Bill tries so hard. I just...

bookslinger, you are clearly seeing her at her very worst, I'll have to post some better photos. Bill says me and my sisters clean up well, which is to say, we can really look like crap, but take a shower, do the hair and makeup, not so bad.

Dessie was the most vibrant person I've ever known and will probably ever know. She was a cheerleader in high school for three years, school secretary (and prom queen) one year. She was so funny and the most fun to be with. You really would have to experience her to understand. After what my dad did to her, and then foster care, she also (see Cathy, above) did the best she could. She was young womens president in her ward twice!! She could dance and sing.

And then, cigarettes and booze really do one in. I look younger than my two youngest sisters. chris and I, who have led relatively clean lives, have better skin and less wrinkles. I tell all young women, "you know, if you smoke, you will age before your time. Just a thought."

Cathy, you know, when I was driving my mother back from the hospital, that agonizingly long 15 minute ride with her on heavy medication and almost every bone in her body broken, I was just frantic...and she told me twice, very clearly, "I love you." The last words she said to me.

Well, I'm sort of emotionally upset today.

If I come up for sunstone, can I stay at your house? Oh, crap, are you going to be gone? Oh, well, can I stay at your house anyway?:)

Sunshine, I read a really cool post you did on the children unborn. I read it and it moved me. But I didn't post because there are always so many posts on FMH. Later, I thought, crap, I know her!

I think we all see Jesus, those who recognize Him (read the book Return From Tomorrow, it explains this); I think He meets each and every one of us. Honestly.

BTW, your secret's safe with me, but I do tell a lot of people about the woman in our ward with special talents. (See my post, My Own Private Screwtape)

annegb said...

Geez, I wrote a book.

Sunshine said...

When did your write it?