(Warning, if you haven’t read this entry - you probably won’t understand the following post)

Megan came back from Boston and went into her bedroom for the next 4 or 5 months and really only came out to go to work or go somewhere with mom and I. She was depressed, that was obvious. Although, she did try to hide it. She even contacted the University and got them to agree to hold her spot until the following fall. Talk about a lucky break.

That was 4 years ago. Megan didn’t return to B.U. We watched, helplessly, as her goals and dreams slipped further away. Everyone tried to help from one angle or another. Megan became more unhappy and at times angry, lashing out at our younger brother, my mom, me, and even my kids. Not something I tolerated… everyone else seemed to just step around her as if walking on eggshells. Not something I chose to do.

I think in some ways I’m considered to be “too blunt” by my family. My mom is very eloquent and diplomatic, when I view a situation as serious I tend to just call a spade a spade, diplomacy be damned. It was in that vein that, more than once, I let Megan know that she was abusing the people around her because she was so obviously miserable.

That almost makes it sound as if we didn’t get along, but we really did. Blow ups were rare and, truthfully, what family doesn’t have their disagreements? With us… we’d blow up… talk it out… and life would move on. We begged, encouraged, and cajoled Megan to go back to school. My mom drove her to Irvine to visit Cal Arts and investigate their Masters program with absolutely no result whatsoever.

In the meantime Megan worked at a local grocery store and obviously, had more education in her little finger than 99% of the employees had in their whole bodies. Still, as most grocery stores go - seniority ruled and she was low down on the food chain. The rest of her time was spent working for the local community theater and working for all the big-name concerts that came into town via the local civic center (concert hall). She lived at home because she didn’t make enough to live alone on her own.

Mom, Megan and I had lunch together at least once a week. Every Friday Megan and I would take Maggie to the mall and hang out. We always had a great time and I looked forward to hanging out with her. Even though a lot of things seemed to be wrong in Megan’s life, I was proud of our relationship, that we had both matured and had a friendship relationship beyond that of just being sisters. Megan took Kate to the theater with her and everyone called Kate “Mini-Me” because she and my sister look just alike (thin, cute, red-heads). Kate adored her and lovingly called her “Meg” or “Aunt Meg.”

Maggie adored Megan too. We spent many an afternoon trying to coax Maggie to walk. Megan would bribe her with chocolate or cookies to get her to walk across the room to her.

Ethan and GJ were another issue. They had grown up around Megan. She was only 12 years older than them. When the boys started to get taller and hit puberty they began to resent Megan being bossy and treating them as if they were still 5 or 6. It was as if she didn’t want to accept that they were growing up.

Last February, Megan began hanging around a couple of people she met at the local theater. They both seemed to have issues and Megan was constantly running out the door to go “rescue” someone. She was never around anymore and avoided the entire family like the plague, specifically, Mom and I. She was always too busy to have lunch or even spend a couple of hours at the mall. Pretty soon she wasn’t coming home at night, she’d come in early get ready for work and run out the door. Last Easter she left to go meet her friends… on Easter! Pretty soon she was gone all the time and only ran in to pick up more clothes, DVDs, etc.

We figured Megan had some friends of her own that she was enjoying. We chalked our discomfort up to feeling “left out.” Mom and I told each other that maybe we were a little annoyed that Megan wasn’t always just “there” like she had been before. For a while that worked. But, it soon became apparent that something strange was going on. Megan had a complete personality change. She became distant and cold. Worse yet, she absolutely refused to introduce her new friends to anyone in the family. For the longest time, she wouldn’t even tell my mom where she was staying. Just that she was “staying with friends.”

Update - click here for part 3

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

(Warning, if you haven’t read this entry - you probably won’t understand the following post)

Megan came back from Boston and went into her bedroom for the next 4 or 5 months and really only came out to go to work or go somewhere with mom and I. She was depressed, that was obvious. Although, she did try to hide it. She even contacted the University and got them to agree to hold her spot until the following fall. Talk about a lucky break.

That was 4 years ago. Megan didn’t return to B.U. We watched, helplessly, as her goals and dreams slipped further away. Everyone tried to help from one angle or another. Megan became more unhappy and at times angry, lashing out at our younger brother, my mom, me, and even my kids. Not something I tolerated… everyone else seemed to just step around her as if walking on eggshells. Not something I chose to do.

I think in some ways I’m considered to be “too blunt” by my family. My mom is very eloquent and diplomatic, when I view a situation as serious I tend to just call a spade a spade, diplomacy be damned. It was in that vein that, more than once, I let Megan know that she was abusing the people around her because she was so obviously miserable.

That almost makes it sound as if we didn’t get along, but we really did. Blow ups were rare and, truthfully, what family doesn’t have their disagreements? With us… we’d blow up… talk it out… and life would move on. We begged, encouraged, and cajoled Megan to go back to school. My mom drove her to Irvine to visit Cal Arts and investigate their Masters program with absolutely no result whatsoever.

In the meantime Megan worked at a local grocery store and obviously, had more education in her little finger than 99% of the employees had in their whole bodies. Still, as most grocery stores go - seniority ruled and she was low down on the food chain. The rest of her time was spent working for the local community theater and working for all the big-name concerts that came into town via the local civic center (concert hall). She lived at home because she didn’t make enough to live alone on her own.

Mom, Megan and I had lunch together at least once a week. Every Friday Megan and I would take Maggie to the mall and hang out. We always had a great time and I looked forward to hanging out with her. Even though a lot of things seemed to be wrong in Megan’s life, I was proud of our relationship, that we had both matured and had a friendship relationship beyond that of just being sisters. Megan took Kate to the theater with her and everyone called Kate “Mini-Me” because she and my sister look just alike (thin, cute, red-heads). Kate adored her and lovingly called her “Meg” or “Aunt Meg.”

Maggie adored Megan too. We spent many an afternoon trying to coax Maggie to walk. Megan would bribe her with chocolate or cookies to get her to walk across the room to her.

Ethan and GJ were another issue. They had grown up around Megan. She was only 12 years older than them. When the boys started to get taller and hit puberty they began to resent Megan being bossy and treating them as if they were still 5 or 6. It was as if she didn’t want to accept that they were growing up.

Last February, Megan began hanging around a couple of people she met at the local theater. They both seemed to have issues and Megan was constantly running out the door to go “rescue” someone. She was never around anymore and avoided the entire family like the plague, specifically, Mom and I. She was always too busy to have lunch or even spend a couple of hours at the mall. Pretty soon she wasn’t coming home at night, she’d come in early get ready for work and run out the door. Last Easter she left to go meet her friends… on Easter! Pretty soon she was gone all the time and only ran in to pick up more clothes, DVDs, etc.

We figured Megan had some friends of her own that she was enjoying. We chalked our discomfort up to feeling “left out.” Mom and I told each other that maybe we were a little annoyed that Megan wasn’t always just “there” like she had been before. For a while that worked. But, it soon became apparent that something strange was going on. Megan had a complete personality change. She became distant and cold. Worse yet, she absolutely refused to introduce her new friends to anyone in the family. For the longest time, she wouldn’t even tell my mom where she was staying. Just that she was “staying with friends.”

Update - click here for part 3

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

(Warning, if you haven’t read this entry - you probably won’t understand the following post)

Megan came back from Boston and went into her bedroom for the next 4 or 5 months and really only came out to go to work or go somewhere with mom and I. She was depressed, that was obvious. Although, she did try to hide it. She even contacted the University and got them to agree to hold her spot until the following fall. Talk about a lucky break.

That was 4 years ago. Megan didn’t return to B.U. We watched, helplessly, as her goals and dreams slipped further away. Everyone tried to help from one angle or another. Megan became more unhappy and at times angry, lashing out at our younger brother, my mom, me, and even my kids. Not something I tolerated… everyone else seemed to just step around her as if walking on eggshells. Not something I chose to do.

I think in some ways I’m considered to be “too blunt” by my family. My mom is very eloquent and diplomatic, when I view a situation as serious I tend to just call a spade a spade, diplomacy be damned. It was in that vein that, more than once, I let Megan know that she was abusing the people around her because she was so obviously miserable.

That almost makes it sound as if we didn’t get along, but we really did. Blow ups were rare and, truthfully, what family doesn’t have their disagreements? With us… we’d blow up… talk it out… and life would move on. We begged, encouraged, and cajoled Megan to go back to school. My mom drove her to Irvine to visit Cal Arts and investigate their Masters program with absolutely no result whatsoever.

In the meantime Megan worked at a local grocery store and obviously, had more education in her little finger than 99% of the employees had in their whole bodies. Still, as most grocery stores go - seniority ruled and she was low down on the food chain. The rest of her time was spent working for the local community theater and working for all the big-name concerts that came into town via the local civic center (concert hall). She lived at home because she didn’t make enough to live alone on her own.

Mom, Megan and I had lunch together at least once a week. Every Friday Megan and I would take Maggie to the mall and hang out. We always had a great time and I looked forward to hanging out with her. Even though a lot of things seemed to be wrong in Megan’s life, I was proud of our relationship, that we had both matured and had a friendship relationship beyond that of just being sisters. Megan took Kate to the theater with her and everyone called Kate “Mini-Me” because she and my sister look just alike (thin, cute, red-heads). Kate adored her and lovingly called her “Meg” or “Aunt Meg.”

Maggie adored Megan too. We spent many an afternoon trying to coax Maggie to walk. Megan would bribe her with chocolate or cookies to get her to walk across the room to her.

Ethan and GJ were another issue. They had grown up around Megan. She was only 12 years older than them. When the boys started to get taller and hit puberty they began to resent Megan being bossy and treating them as if they were still 5 or 6. It was as if she didn’t want to accept that they were growing up.

Last February, Megan began hanging around a couple of people she met at the local theater. They both seemed to have issues and Megan was constantly running out the door to go “rescue” someone. She was never around anymore and avoided the entire family like the plague, specifically, Mom and I. She was always too busy to have lunch or even spend a couple of hours at the mall. Pretty soon she wasn’t coming home at night, she’d come in early get ready for work and run out the door. Last Easter she left to go meet her friends… on Easter! Pretty soon she was gone all the time and only ran in to pick up more clothes, DVDs, etc.

We figured Megan had some friends of her own that she was enjoying. We chalked our discomfort up to feeling “left out.” Mom and I told each other that maybe we were a little annoyed that Megan wasn’t always just “there” like she had been before. For a while that worked. But, it soon became apparent that something strange was going on. Megan had a complete personality change. She became distant and cold. Worse yet, she absolutely refused to introduce her new friends to anyone in the family. For the longest time, she wouldn’t even tell my mom where she was staying. Just that she was “staying with friends.”

Update - click here for part 3

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

(Warning, if you haven’t read this entry - you probably won’t understand the following post)

Megan came back from Boston and went into her bedroom for the next 4 or 5 months and really only came out to go to work or go somewhere with mom and I. She was depressed, that was obvious. Although, she did try to hide it. She even contacted the University and got them to agree to hold her spot until the following fall. Talk about a lucky break.

That was 4 years ago. Megan didn’t return to B.U. We watched, helplessly, as her goals and dreams slipped further away. Everyone tried to help from one angle or another. Megan became more unhappy and at times angry, lashing out at our younger brother, my mom, me, and even my kids. Not something I tolerated… everyone else seemed to just step around her as if walking on eggshells. Not something I chose to do.

I think in some ways I’m considered to be “too blunt” by my family. My mom is very eloquent and diplomatic, when I view a situation as serious I tend to just call a spade a spade, diplomacy be damned. It was in that vein that, more than once, I let Megan know that she was abusing the people around her because she was so obviously miserable.

That almost makes it sound as if we didn’t get along, but we really did. Blow ups were rare and, truthfully, what family doesn’t have their disagreements? With us… we’d blow up… talk it out… and life would move on. We begged, encouraged, and cajoled Megan to go back to school. My mom drove her to Irvine to visit Cal Arts and investigate their Masters program with absolutely no result whatsoever.

In the meantime Megan worked at a local grocery store and obviously, had more education in her little finger than 99% of the employees had in their whole bodies. Still, as most grocery stores go - seniority ruled and she was low down on the food chain. The rest of her time was spent working for the local community theater and working for all the big-name concerts that came into town via the local civic center (concert hall). She lived at home because she didn’t make enough to live alone on her own.

Mom, Megan and I had lunch together at least once a week. Every Friday Megan and I would take Maggie to the mall and hang out. We always had a great time and I looked forward to hanging out with her. Even though a lot of things seemed to be wrong in Megan’s life, I was proud of our relationship, that we had both matured and had a friendship relationship beyond that of just being sisters. Megan took Kate to the theater with her and everyone called Kate “Mini-Me” because she and my sister look just alike (thin, cute, red-heads). Kate adored her and lovingly called her “Meg” or “Aunt Meg.”

Maggie adored Megan too. We spent many an afternoon trying to coax Maggie to walk. Megan would bribe her with chocolate or cookies to get her to walk across the room to her.

Ethan and GJ were another issue. They had grown up around Megan. She was only 12 years older than them. When the boys started to get taller and hit puberty they began to resent Megan being bossy and treating them as if they were still 5 or 6. It was as if she didn’t want to accept that they were growing up.

Last February, Megan began hanging around a couple of people she met at the local theater. They both seemed to have issues and Megan was constantly running out the door to go “rescue” someone. She was never around anymore and avoided the entire family like the plague, specifically, Mom and I. She was always too busy to have lunch or even spend a couple of hours at the mall. Pretty soon she wasn’t coming home at night, she’d come in early get ready for work and run out the door. Last Easter she left to go meet her friends… on Easter! Pretty soon she was gone all the time and only ran in to pick up more clothes, DVDs, etc.

We figured Megan had some friends of her own that she was enjoying. We chalked our discomfort up to feeling “left out.” Mom and I told each other that maybe we were a little annoyed that Megan wasn’t always just “there” like she had been before. For a while that worked. But, it soon became apparent that something strange was going on. Megan had a complete personality change. She became distant and cold. Worse yet, she absolutely refused to introduce her new friends to anyone in the family. For the longest time, she wouldn’t even tell my mom where she was staying. Just that she was “staying with friends.”

Update - click here for part 3

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

(Warning, if you haven’t read this entry - you probably won’t understand the following post)

Megan came back from Boston and went into her bedroom for the next 4 or 5 months and really only came out to go to work or go somewhere with mom and I. She was depressed, that was obvious. Although, she did try to hide it. She even contacted the University and got them to agree to hold her spot until the following fall. Talk about a lucky break.

That was 4 years ago. Megan didn’t return to B.U. We watched, helplessly, as her goals and dreams slipped further away. Everyone tried to help from one angle or another. Megan became more unhappy and at times angry, lashing out at our younger brother, my mom, me, and even my kids. Not something I tolerated… everyone else seemed to just step around her as if walking on eggshells. Not something I chose to do.

I think in some ways I’m considered to be “too blunt” by my family. My mom is very eloquent and diplomatic, when I view a situation as serious I tend to just call a spade a spade, diplomacy be damned. It was in that vein that, more than once, I let Megan know that she was abusing the people around her because she was so obviously miserable.

That almost makes it sound as if we didn’t get along, but we really did. Blow ups were rare and, truthfully, what family doesn’t have their disagreements? With us… we’d blow up… talk it out… and life would move on. We begged, encouraged, and cajoled Megan to go back to school. My mom drove her to Irvine to visit Cal Arts and investigate their Masters program with absolutely no result whatsoever.

In the meantime Megan worked at a local grocery store and obviously, had more education in her little finger than 99% of the employees had in their whole bodies. Still, as most grocery stores go - seniority ruled and she was low down on the food chain. The rest of her time was spent working for the local community theater and working for all the big-name concerts that came into town via the local civic center (concert hall). She lived at home because she didn’t make enough to live alone on her own.

Mom, Megan and I had lunch together at least once a week. Every Friday Megan and I would take Maggie to the mall and hang out. We always had a great time and I looked forward to hanging out with her. Even though a lot of things seemed to be wrong in Megan’s life, I was proud of our relationship, that we had both matured and had a friendship relationship beyond that of just being sisters. Megan took Kate to the theater with her and everyone called Kate “Mini-Me” because she and my sister look just alike (thin, cute, red-heads). Kate adored her and lovingly called her “Meg” or “Aunt Meg.”

Maggie adored Megan too. We spent many an afternoon trying to coax Maggie to walk. Megan would bribe her with chocolate or cookies to get her to walk across the room to her.

Ethan and GJ were another issue. They had grown up around Megan. She was only 12 years older than them. When the boys started to get taller and hit puberty they began to resent Megan being bossy and treating them as if they were still 5 or 6. It was as if she didn’t want to accept that they were growing up.

Last February, Megan began hanging around a couple of people she met at the local theater. They both seemed to have issues and Megan was constantly running out the door to go “rescue” someone. She was never around anymore and avoided the entire family like the plague, specifically, Mom and I. She was always too busy to have lunch or even spend a couple of hours at the mall. Pretty soon she wasn’t coming home at night, she’d come in early get ready for work and run out the door. Last Easter she left to go meet her friends… on Easter! Pretty soon she was gone all the time and only ran in to pick up more clothes, DVDs, etc.

We figured Megan had some friends of her own that she was enjoying. We chalked our discomfort up to feeling “left out.” Mom and I told each other that maybe we were a little annoyed that Megan wasn’t always just “there” like she had been before. For a while that worked. But, it soon became apparent that something strange was going on. Megan had a complete personality change. She became distant and cold. Worse yet, she absolutely refused to introduce her new friends to anyone in the family. For the longest time, she wouldn’t even tell my mom where she was staying. Just that she was “staying with friends.”

Update - click here for part 3

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

(Warning, if you haven’t read this entry - you probably won’t understand the following post)

Megan came back from Boston and went into her bedroom for the next 4 or 5 months and really only came out to go to work or go somewhere with mom and I. She was depressed, that was obvious. Although, she did try to hide it. She even contacted the University and got them to agree to hold her spot until the following fall. Talk about a lucky break.

That was 4 years ago. Megan didn’t return to B.U. We watched, helplessly, as her goals and dreams slipped further away. Everyone tried to help from one angle or another. Megan became more unhappy and at times angry, lashing out at our younger brother, my mom, me, and even my kids. Not something I tolerated… everyone else seemed to just step around her as if walking on eggshells. Not something I chose to do.

I think in some ways I’m considered to be “too blunt” by my family. My mom is very eloquent and diplomatic, when I view a situation as serious I tend to just call a spade a spade, diplomacy be damned. It was in that vein that, more than once, I let Megan know that she was abusing the people around her because she was so obviously miserable.

That almost makes it sound as if we didn’t get along, but we really did. Blow ups were rare and, truthfully, what family doesn’t have their disagreements? With us… we’d blow up… talk it out… and life would move on. We begged, encouraged, and cajoled Megan to go back to school. My mom drove her to Irvine to visit Cal Arts and investigate their Masters program with absolutely no result whatsoever.

In the meantime Megan worked at a local grocery store and obviously, had more education in her little finger than 99% of the employees had in their whole bodies. Still, as most grocery stores go - seniority ruled and she was low down on the food chain. The rest of her time was spent working for the local community theater and working for all the big-name concerts that came into town via the local civic center (concert hall). She lived at home because she didn’t make enough to live alone on her own.

Mom, Megan and I had lunch together at least once a week. Every Friday Megan and I would take Maggie to the mall and hang out. We always had a great time and I looked forward to hanging out with her. Even though a lot of things seemed to be wrong in Megan’s life, I was proud of our relationship, that we had both matured and had a friendship relationship beyond that of just being sisters. Megan took Kate to the theater with her and everyone called Kate “Mini-Me” because she and my sister look just alike (thin, cute, red-heads). Kate adored her and lovingly called her “Meg” or “Aunt Meg.”

Maggie adored Megan too. We spent many an afternoon trying to coax Maggie to walk. Megan would bribe her with chocolate or cookies to get her to walk across the room to her.

Ethan and GJ were another issue. They had grown up around Megan. She was only 12 years older than them. When the boys started to get taller and hit puberty they began to resent Megan being bossy and treating them as if they were still 5 or 6. It was as if she didn’t want to accept that they were growing up.

Last February, Megan began hanging around a couple of people she met at the local theater. They both seemed to have issues and Megan was constantly running out the door to go “rescue” someone. She was never around anymore and avoided the entire family like the plague, specifically, Mom and I. She was always too busy to have lunch or even spend a couple of hours at the mall. Pretty soon she wasn’t coming home at night, she’d come in early get ready for work and run out the door. Last Easter she left to go meet her friends… on Easter! Pretty soon she was gone all the time and only ran in to pick up more clothes, DVDs, etc.

We figured Megan had some friends of her own that she was enjoying. We chalked our discomfort up to feeling “left out.” Mom and I told each other that maybe we were a little annoyed that Megan wasn’t always just “there” like she had been before. For a while that worked. But, it soon became apparent that something strange was going on. Megan had a complete personality change. She became distant and cold. Worse yet, she absolutely refused to introduce her new friends to anyone in the family. For the longest time, she wouldn’t even tell my mom where she was staying. Just that she was “staying with friends.”

Update - click here for part 3

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

Today is my sister’s birthday. She’s 26 today. Normally, I would have bought her a funny card, a new Christmas ornament, and an addition to our super-secret collection that only our mom and my husband know about. Our favorite holiday season is coming up (Halloween - New Year’s… especially Christmas), normally there would be plans brewing already, shopping lists lengthening, and shopping trips planned. But, not this year, I guess.

I haven’t talked to her in a few months. Which is pretty unusual for us. My mom, sister and I have always been pretty tight. Annual weekend “girls only” trips to Vegas, weekly lunches and shopping trips and always together on holidays. There was a time when I could not imagine not talking to my mom and sister at least daily.

Perhaps it is time to discuss my sister. My mother will cringe at this statement, I’m sure. (sorry Mom, but not really, you know.) Fair warning now… this is destined to be a longer than average post. I know some people don’t care for that sort of thing, but there are a few subjects that 3-4 paragraphs just won’t accurately depict.

My sister and I were fairly normal siblings throughout most of our childhood. When our parents divorced we lived with our mother. Mom worked two (and sometimes more) jobs to support us. It certainly was not the secure, family environment that we had been used to until that point, but we made do.

My sister has always been different. Marched to the beat of a different drummer and all that. In many ways were quite opposite. She was much more of a tomboy and I was far more feminine, preferring dresses, make up, and the mall. Megan felt at home in a cute pair of jeans and a fun t-shirt from American Eagle. A size 5 on a “fat” day, Megan has thick, wavy red hair and deep brown eyes. She adorable when she gets dressed up. It’s a shame that she chooses to hide adorable features under a baseball cap 95% of the time. Of course, the last time I saw her she had the worst hair cut I have ever seen and a baseball cap would have been an improvement.

Megan was a theater major in college. Lighting and sound design are her specialty. She’s gifted, unfortunately, she needs to obtain a Master’s degree in order to do anything in her chosen field. A few years ago she obtained one of two spots in the theater program at Boston University. We were all very proud of her. She graduated with a Bachelor’s degree from the local University and we were all prepared to send her off to put the finishing polish on her education at B.U.

I should preface what happened next by explaining that my mom and sister are not strangers to Boston. My mom is a history major and obviously Boston is cornucopia of American history. They’ve spent a few vacations there and are fairly familiar and can manage to get around with few problems and almost constant, near-hysterical laughter. On more than one occasion (on more than one vacation) I’ve taken phone calls instructing me to pull up MapQuest and get them from one destination to another usually as one of them are driving to that destination and getting farther away from it by the second (thus the laughter).

My mom packed Megan’s room up, purchased loads of things to furnish and equip her new apartment. They dealt with the depression of Molly Brown, the Cocker Spaniel, who slept with Megan every night and became increasingly neurotic as the bedroom began to empty and bed disappeared. They flew into Boston and the truck with all of Megan’s things arrived the next day. Just as my mother, aka “Super Mover” planned. I did not accompany them on the trip to Boston and so I cannot give an accurate accounting of what exactly transpired, but needless to say, something shattered that night.

Megan had made arrangements for a roommate and the two planned to share an apartment in a renovated, old, Victorian house near where most of the students from the University lived during the school year. Something about the apartment freaked Megan out. Now, it could be that it was on the opposite coast and would mark the first time she would be living on her own, or it could have been a legitimate security-risk. The latter is the only reason she has provided for what followed. Shortly after touring the apartment for the first time, Megan broke down, freaked out, and had a full-blown panic attack.

Back in California I listened intently to my mother explaining the situation in hushed tones over the phone. Even at 2am, still trying to wake up, I knew that my mom should make Megan stay there. I tried to convince her of that, but whatever my mom was witnessing first-hand on her end, convinced her otherwise.

When the furniture arrived the next day, on time just as mom had planned, it was promptly sent back. I was using a travel website to find them appropriate accommodations, and mom was making phone calls to arrange plane tickets, return shipping, etc. Megan came home.

To Be Continued…

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Today is my sister’s birthday. She’s 26 today. Normally, I would have bought her a funny card, a new Christmas ornament, and an addition to our super-secret collection that only our mom and my husband know about. Our favorite holiday season is coming up (Halloween - New Year’s… especially Christmas), normally there would be plans brewing already, shopping lists lengthening, and shopping trips planned. But, not this year, I guess.

I haven’t talked to her in a few months. Which is pretty unusual for us. My mom, sister and I have always been pretty tight. Annual weekend “girls only” trips to Vegas, weekly lunches and shopping trips and always together on holidays. There was a time when I could not imagine not talking to my mom and sister at least daily.

Perhaps it is time to discuss my sister. My mother will cringe at this statement, I’m sure. (sorry Mom, but not really, you know.) Fair warning now… this is destined to be a longer than average post. I know some people don’t care for that sort of thing, but there are a few subjects that 3-4 paragraphs just won’t accurately depict.

My sister and I were fairly normal siblings throughout most of our childhood. When our parents divorced we lived with our mother. Mom worked two (and sometimes more) jobs to support us. It certainly was not the secure, family environment that we had been used to until that point, but we made do.

My sister has always been different. Marched to the beat of a different drummer and all that. In many ways were quite opposite. She was much more of a tomboy and I was far more feminine, preferring dresses, make up, and the mall. Megan felt at home in a cute pair of jeans and a fun t-shirt from American Eagle. A size 5 on a “fat” day, Megan has thick, wavy red hair and deep brown eyes. She adorable when she gets dressed up. It’s a shame that she chooses to hide adorable features under a baseball cap 95% of the time. Of course, the last time I saw her she had the worst hair cut I have ever seen and a baseball cap would have been an improvement.

Megan was a theater major in college. Lighting and sound design are her specialty. She’s gifted, unfortunately, she needs to obtain a Master’s degree in order to do anything in her chosen field. A few years ago she obtained one of two spots in the theater program at Boston University. We were all very proud of her. She graduated with a Bachelor’s degree from the local University and we were all prepared to send her off to put the finishing polish on her education at B.U.

I should preface what happened next by explaining that my mom and sister are not strangers to Boston. My mom is a history major and obviously Boston is cornucopia of American history. They’ve spent a few vacations there and are fairly familiar and can manage to get around with few problems and almost constant, near-hysterical laughter. On more than one occasion (on more than one vacation) I’ve taken phone calls instructing me to pull up MapQuest and get them from one destination to another usually as one of them are driving to that destination and getting farther away from it by the second (thus the laughter).

My mom packed Megan’s room up, purchased loads of things to furnish and equip her new apartment. They dealt with the depression of Molly Brown, the Cocker Spaniel, who slept with Megan every night and became increasingly neurotic as the bedroom began to empty and bed disappeared. They flew into Boston and the truck with all of Megan’s things arrived the next day. Just as my mother, aka “Super Mover” planned. I did not accompany them on the trip to Boston and so I cannot give an accurate accounting of what exactly transpired, but needless to say, something shattered that night.

Megan had made arrangements for a roommate and the two planned to share an apartment in a renovated, old, Victorian house near where most of the students from the University lived during the school year. Something about the apartment freaked Megan out. Now, it could be that it was on the opposite coast and would mark the first time she would be living on her own, or it could have been a legitimate security-risk. The latter is the only reason she has provided for what followed. Shortly after touring the apartment for the first time, Megan broke down, freaked out, and had a full-blown panic attack.

Back in California I listened intently to my mother explaining the situation in hushed tones over the phone. Even at 2am, still trying to wake up, I knew that my mom should make Megan stay there. I tried to convince her of that, but whatever my mom was witnessing first-hand on her end, convinced her otherwise.

When the furniture arrived the next day, on time just as mom had planned, it was promptly sent back. I was using a travel website to find them appropriate accommodations, and mom was making phone calls to arrange plane tickets, return shipping, etc. Megan came home.

To Be Continued…

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Today is my sister’s birthday. She’s 26 today. Normally, I would have bought her a funny card, a new Christmas ornament, and an addition to our super-secret collection that only our mom and my husband know about. Our favorite holiday season is coming up (Halloween - New Year’s… especially Christmas), normally there would be plans brewing already, shopping lists lengthening, and shopping trips planned. But, not this year, I guess.

I haven’t talked to her in a few months. Which is pretty unusual for us. My mom, sister and I have always been pretty tight. Annual weekend “girls only” trips to Vegas, weekly lunches and shopping trips and always together on holidays. There was a time when I could not imagine not talking to my mom and sister at least daily.

Perhaps it is time to discuss my sister. My mother will cringe at this statement, I’m sure. (sorry Mom, but not really, you know.) Fair warning now… this is destined to be a longer than average post. I know some people don’t care for that sort of thing, but there are a few subjects that 3-4 paragraphs just won’t accurately depict.

My sister and I were fairly normal siblings throughout most of our childhood. When our parents divorced we lived with our mother. Mom worked two (and sometimes more) jobs to support us. It certainly was not the secure, family environment that we had been used to until that point, but we made do.

My sister has always been different. Marched to the beat of a different drummer and all that. In many ways were quite opposite. She was much more of a tomboy and I was far more feminine, preferring dresses, make up, and the mall. Megan felt at home in a cute pair of jeans and a fun t-shirt from American Eagle. A size 5 on a “fat” day, Megan has thick, wavy red hair and deep brown eyes. She adorable when she gets dressed up. It’s a shame that she chooses to hide adorable features under a baseball cap 95% of the time. Of course, the last time I saw her she had the worst hair cut I have ever seen and a baseball cap would have been an improvement.

Megan was a theater major in college. Lighting and sound design are her specialty. She’s gifted, unfortunately, she needs to obtain a Master’s degree in order to do anything in her chosen field. A few years ago she obtained one of two spots in the theater program at Boston University. We were all very proud of her. She graduated with a Bachelor’s degree from the local University and we were all prepared to send her off to put the finishing polish on her education at B.U.

I should preface what happened next by explaining that my mom and sister are not strangers to Boston. My mom is a history major and obviously Boston is cornucopia of American history. They’ve spent a few vacations there and are fairly familiar and can manage to get around with few problems and almost constant, near-hysterical laughter. On more than one occasion (on more than one vacation) I’ve taken phone calls instructing me to pull up MapQuest and get them from one destination to another usually as one of them are driving to that destination and getting farther away from it by the second (thus the laughter).

My mom packed Megan’s room up, purchased loads of things to furnish and equip her new apartment. They dealt with the depression of Molly Brown, the Cocker Spaniel, who slept with Megan every night and became increasingly neurotic as the bedroom began to empty and bed disappeared. They flew into Boston and the truck with all of Megan’s things arrived the next day. Just as my mother, aka “Super Mover” planned. I did not accompany them on the trip to Boston and so I cannot give an accurate accounting of what exactly transpired, but needless to say, something shattered that night.

Megan had made arrangements for a roommate and the two planned to share an apartment in a renovated, old, Victorian house near where most of the students from the University lived during the school year. Something about the apartment freaked Megan out. Now, it could be that it was on the opposite coast and would mark the first time she would be living on her own, or it could have been a legitimate security-risk. The latter is the only reason she has provided for what followed. Shortly after touring the apartment for the first time, Megan broke down, freaked out, and had a full-blown panic attack.

Back in California I listened intently to my mother explaining the situation in hushed tones over the phone. Even at 2am, still trying to wake up, I knew that my mom should make Megan stay there. I tried to convince her of that, but whatever my mom was witnessing first-hand on her end, convinced her otherwise.

When the furniture arrived the next day, on time just as mom had planned, it was promptly sent back. I was using a travel website to find them appropriate accommodations, and mom was making phone calls to arrange plane tickets, return shipping, etc. Megan came home.

To Be Continued…

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Today is my sister’s birthday. She’s 26 today. Normally, I would have bought her a funny card, a new Christmas ornament, and an addition to our super-secret collection that only our mom and my husband know about. Our favorite holiday season is coming up (Halloween - New Year’s… especially Christmas), normally there would be plans brewing already, shopping lists lengthening, and shopping trips planned. But, not this year, I guess.

I haven’t talked to her in a few months. Which is pretty unusual for us. My mom, sister and I have always been pretty tight. Annual weekend “girls only” trips to Vegas, weekly lunches and shopping trips and always together on holidays. There was a time when I could not imagine not talking to my mom and sister at least daily.

Perhaps it is time to discuss my sister. My mother will cringe at this statement, I’m sure. (sorry Mom, but not really, you know.) Fair warning now… this is destined to be a longer than average post. I know some people don’t care for that sort of thing, but there are a few subjects that 3-4 paragraphs just won’t accurately depict.

My sister and I were fairly normal siblings throughout most of our childhood. When our parents divorced we lived with our mother. Mom worked two (and sometimes more) jobs to support us. It certainly was not the secure, family environment that we had been used to until that point, but we made do.

My sister has always been different. Marched to the beat of a different drummer and all that. In many ways were quite opposite. She was much more of a tomboy and I was far more feminine, preferring dresses, make up, and the mall. Megan felt at home in a cute pair of jeans and a fun t-shirt from American Eagle. A size 5 on a “fat” day, Megan has thick, wavy red hair and deep brown eyes. She adorable when she gets dressed up. It’s a shame that she chooses to hide adorable features under a baseball cap 95% of the time. Of course, the last time I saw her she had the worst hair cut I have ever seen and a baseball cap would have been an improvement.

Megan was a theater major in college. Lighting and sound design are her specialty. She’s gifted, unfortunately, she needs to obtain a Master’s degree in order to do anything in her chosen field. A few years ago she obtained one of two spots in the theater program at Boston University. We were all very proud of her. She graduated with a Bachelor’s degree from the local University and we were all prepared to send her off to put the finishing polish on her education at B.U.

I should preface what happened next by explaining that my mom and sister are not strangers to Boston. My mom is a history major and obviously Boston is cornucopia of American history. They’ve spent a few vacations there and are fairly familiar and can manage to get around with few problems and almost constant, near-hysterical laughter. On more than one occasion (on more than one vacation) I’ve taken phone calls instructing me to pull up MapQuest and get them from one destination to another usually as one of them are driving to that destination and getting farther away from it by the second (thus the laughter).

My mom packed Megan’s room up, purchased loads of things to furnish and equip her new apartment. They dealt with the depression of Molly Brown, the Cocker Spaniel, who slept with Megan every night and became increasingly neurotic as the bedroom began to empty and bed disappeared. They flew into Boston and the truck with all of Megan’s things arrived the next day. Just as my mother, aka “Super Mover” planned. I did not accompany them on the trip to Boston and so I cannot give an accurate accounting of what exactly transpired, but needless to say, something shattered that night.

Megan had made arrangements for a roommate and the two planned to share an apartment in a renovated, old, Victorian house near where most of the students from the University lived during the school year. Something about the apartment freaked Megan out. Now, it could be that it was on the opposite coast and would mark the first time she would be living on her own, or it could have been a legitimate security-risk. The latter is the only reason she has provided for what followed. Shortly after touring the apartment for the first time, Megan broke down, freaked out, and had a full-blown panic attack.

Back in California I listened intently to my mother explaining the situation in hushed tones over the phone. Even at 2am, still trying to wake up, I knew that my mom should make Megan stay there. I tried to convince her of that, but whatever my mom was witnessing first-hand on her end, convinced her otherwise.

When the furniture arrived the next day, on time just as mom had planned, it was promptly sent back. I was using a travel website to find them appropriate accommodations, and mom was making phone calls to arrange plane tickets, return shipping, etc. Megan came home.

To Be Continued…

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