While my sister could often times be the most infuriating person on the planet, she also one of the funniest. Growing up, most people would probably be able to better identify her by her ass more so than her face. Common greeting was usually her answering the door and then dropping trough and wiggling her butt; I'm pretty sure she cracked herself up more than anything else. She loved going down the street to Sweetie and Grandma Mary's house to be able to partake in morning coffee; she relished the fact that it was "a grown up drink". She like to pretend to be a ninja turtle (Raphael, because he was the coolest and he had a red "eyeband".) and practice her "karate" which, in all honesty looked more like a spinning grand mal seizure. After Stormi was born, Tori was rather amused by pushing the skin of Stormi's forehead down to make her look like a Klingon; when Stormi got to the point of baby talk or yammering her disdain of Tori using her as her bitch for amusment, Tori would exclaim, "SEE?! SHE EVEN SPEAKS KLINGON!"
When Tori was in the 3rd grade, she was diagnosed with Type I diabetes; that was a turning point in the lives of everyone, most of all Tori. While other kids got to trick or treat and eat their loot, Tori had to give hers away. She had to learn how to count calories, draw up insulin, know how much of which insulin to take and when, poke her finger 3-5 times per day to check her blood sugars and to monitor her body to know when her sugars were either too high or too low. We spent years in and out of the hospital trying to get her blood sugars under control and for Tori, who was so feirce in not wanting to be controlled, be told what to do, or live life in any manner other than under her terms, it was very hard and she rebelled. Often times that rebellion was what landed her back in the hospital.
It's not fair for a kid her age and especially on up through the teen years to deal with that kind of responsibility, to see what the 'normal' kids got to do and she couldn't; that was compounded when we discovered she had Celiac Sprue, a disease that when anything made with gluten (wheat, oats, rye and barley) causes an inflamatory reaction in the small bowel which interferes with the absorption of nutrients. After not being able to eat things she enjoyed, yet another food group was taken away. Going grocery shopping was a chore; you'd be suprised at how much food has gluten in it; from bread products even down to spaghetti sauces. It was one more reminder of how she didn't have 100% control of her life, that these diseases were telling her what she could and could not do in her life.She didn't really let that stop her (remember, she was a stubborn pain in the ass).
During the period of time she was on her insulin pump, we went to Golden Coral for dinner. Golden Coral is a place that has a buffet, including a desert buffet that had an icecream machine. My kid sister stuck her ENTIRE HEAD under the icecream machine, opened her mouth, filled it with icecream than walked over, head tilted all the way back like a hooker who just got the money shot and then dumped sprinkles on top of it. It was truly a sight to behold. Once she swallowed it, she had this gloaty face that only Tori could have. Coughing up the water I'd half inhaled half blew through my nose watching this, I told her that was icecream, not frozen yogurt. She looked at me, raised an eyebrow and said, "Your point?", clicked the button on her insulin pump that would give her an insulin bolus and said, "See, all better." with this shit eating grin that was quite self satisfied and quite the 'fuck you, diabetes and anyone who's going to tell me what I can and can't eat.'
That, that was classic Tori.Even with as hardcore as she was, there was also a vulnerability about her. When someone would upset her to the point of tears, she usually tried to cover her hurt with anger. I usually got her to simmer down by making her laugh and flipping her shit; we thrived on trying to out wise ass one another and it was a staple in our relationship to hang shit on one another whenever possible. Sometimes it pissed her off, usually it would just make her laugh. One day she was crying over her boyfriend and I looked at her and said, "Quit cryin you pussy. Cryin's fer sissies!" After she threw her shoe at me (actually, it was my shoe that she "borrowed") she started laughing. The cryin's fer sissies! has been something we've used since, be it at funerals, everyday life, or continuing our smartass competion on Myspace bulletins. Everytime I see it, I congratulate myself for being the funny, funny bitch I am, and I crack up.
Tori was a complicated girl who defied death more times than I can count. I honestly started thinking she would live forever. After having such a difficult time fighting her demons, in the last year she had turned things around and for the first time, my sister was happy. She was engaged, had a stepson she absolutely adored and had the best friend a girl could ask for. She had found her place in the world and for the first time ever seemed comfortable in her own skin. She was still fiery Tori, but there was something more noticeable; a wholeness that she didn't seem to have before. She went from being the annoying kid sister who stole my clothes, mimicked my hair, and decided Bettie Page was her idol after seeing my Bettie collection, to someone who had discovered who she was and was finally happy with herself...even though she continued to collect Bettie paraphenalia and then let me know exactly what she found and where.
The last year has been wonderful with my sister; there was a long period of time where she pushed everyone who cared about her away with the exception of the two men who wouldn't be pushed; her fiancee Gary and her best friend Justin. It was like rediscovering and getting to know the woman Tori had become. She was still the same Tori, just a more evolved one. And now, we won't get to see the kind of woman she will continue to become, because Tori is gone. It's a bitter pill to swallow that once life finally started getting good for her that death won. I take comfort in my faith that she's still here, in fact I feel her here right now. I take comfort in knowing she isn't hurting any more, the neuropathy is gone, her legs healed, that she is with her very beloved Grandma Land and probably eating her mac n cheese guilt free and smothered in ketchup just like she always liked it. We will all miss her terribly, but have no fear, she is still peaking in on us, probably while changing clothes or showering, making fun of our naked asses, laughing and snorting the entire time.
1 comment:
Your Tori sounds like a wonderful sister and friend. I am so sorry for your loss.
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