Saving Memories for My Sister

Where Are You Little Girl?

The summer I turned 16, my mother and I drove from Miami, Florida to Tallahassee to see my sister. The 500 mile journey took us to the campus of Florida State University where Janet was a Freshman.

She was living in a scholarship house off campus with a dozen or so other students. Their house mother served as a chaperone and substitute mother to these young ladies during their pursuit of a college degree. They shared meals at a giant dining room table with living quarters in an historic house just a couple of blocks from school.

Janet took me with her to her classes and to the campus library, and nearby coffee shops where I played "Little Red Riding Hood" on the jukebox.

As we stood outside the student union, a friend of hers drove up in his shiny new Chevy Corvair and stopped right next to where we were standing.

He rolled down the window and I'll never forget what he did next.

Be My Love - Mario Lanza

This dangerously handsome guy, dressed to the teeth in a light blue button-down shirt with a skinny tie, the hottest styles during the 60s, reached out and took my sister's hand. Then, without any further provocation, he belted out the song in the video above with as much gusto and volume as he could produce.

Afterward, he simply drove off just as smug and confident as he'd driven up.

I asked my sister if that was her boyfriend. She said, "No, he's just a drama student who is deeply into his craft."

I never forgot that few minutes where I thought it was the most romantic thing I'd ever seen.

Janet found her first true love on that campus, but it wasn't the Mario Lanza impersonator. She and Jim got married in April of 1967 in a church wedding with flowers, a long, flowing white dress, a best man, a flower girl (my little 5 year-old cousin) and two bridesmaids including yours truly.

She probably doesn't remember either of these events now. She's suffering from early onset dementia. It's up to the rest of the family to keep her memories safe. 

That responsibility falls mostly on my niece, Janet's daughter who lives in the same town in South Carolina.

Those of us who have served as caregivers know the heavy burden that this entails. It's a complex blend of guilt and exhaustion from trying to do it all, caring for your mother while carrying a full-time job, caring for a retired spouse, a household and the daily grind of life's activities.

I admire her perseverance and fortitude. You know who your are.