Snapshots of J

I (Kathryn) have no doubt that throughout the course of my life I will share many memories that I have of my sister Jamie. However, what to share first, and how to express everything she meant to me is so unbelievably difficult. I suppose it’s similar to how I felt at the funeral. There is so much that I could have said and so much that I wanted to say, but the only words I could muster were, “you were my best friend. I love you so much.” I have since tried so hard to write down just what she meant to me and what I meant to her, and describe our relationship, but I just can’t do it. I can’t put it into words. I thought I could tie a few memories together that would illustrate something about who Jamie was or the unique closeness that we shared, but that seems to be too much as well.

So a wise friend suggested that I just share random snapshot memories I have of Jamie. I cannot try to explain them or why they were so uniquely her or us, but I can share some of what I remember, in no particular order of chronology or how much each memory means to me. They’re just some of the many memories that pass through my mind every day and night.

• The night before Jamie married Paul, she stayed in my room. After all the evening’s festivities were over and we were almost certain everyone was in bed, Jamie and I (Jamie in a random dress she pulled from her suitcase, and me in a huge NY Giants t-shirt and boxers) snuck out of our room and into the wedding reception hall. It was empty except for the preliminary set-up that had been completed that day. She stood in the middle of the beautiful room and looked around, and Jamie, in all her excitement, out of nowhere started dancing, and twirling, and just laughing hysterically. It didn’t take long until she dragged me into her silliness. We stayed there in the hall for I’m not sure how long, dancing, and laughing, and shushing each other, and laughing some more. I’ll never forget that night.

• When I was a little girl, I used to spend every Christmas Eve night in Jamie’s room. I’d sleep in her bed and during the night she’d wake me up saying, “Did you just hear that?! I think he’s on the roof!” I’d get so excited and she would then talk to me all about Santa and all the gifts I hoped to get. As years passed (when the jig was up), she taught me how to search the house high and low for presents. Due to my masterful teacher, I became a champ at finding all my gifts ahead of time (sorry Mom and Dad).

• She used to refer to John and Larkin as “Dos Perros,” even though I repeatedly told her that it meant “two dogs” and that she was such a weirdo, but she liked how it sounded and it made her laugh.

• My nick-name, how it evolved over the years: started off as Kiki, then Kiks, then Kiki-mon, then Ki-mono, then just Ki. When she was in California and I was in my early years at college, one day she randomly sent me a comic book she found and the hero shown on the cover was Kiki-mon. I so hope that I can find this comic book one day. It has to be in a box somewhere.

• When I was young, probably in early middle school, Jamie taught me the importance of having a good, strong handshake. I don’t remember where we were, but it was a situation where we were meeting a bunch of people and I was probably being shy. She took me into the bathroom and taught me how to give a proper handshake just as Gramps had taught her. She explained why it is so important and what kind of message you’re sending when you don’t bother to or are too timid to firmly shake someone’s hand. It was a lesson for my benefit, and I have never once forgotten it. It is so Jamie to have taught me that when I was just a little kid.

• Jamie, for who knows what reason, insisted on always being the last one clapping in a crowd. It was a small characteristic that I don’t think many people noticed about her, but it cracked me up every time we were at a show or something of that nature, I’d turn to her and roll my eyes and she’d quietly, fake embarrassed, laugh back at me, as she continued to clap until after every last person in the audience had stopped.

• Hearing her excitedly yell, “Ki-mono!!” to the kids whenever I walked into the house.

That’s enough for now. There are countless more small, random memories that I hope not to forget and will do my best to document them over time.

-Kathryn A. O’Brien