Missy

Born the fifth child and the youngest, I was not planned.  My sister Missy, the fourth child was nine years older than me. Missy was born with a deformed heart, scoliosis and a crooked foot.  Missy’s resting heart rate was as fast as ours when we exercise.  The doctors convinced my mother not to have a tubal ligation during that time, leaving open the possibility for me.  My oldest sister is fifteen years my elder, my second oldest sister is thirteen years older and my brother is ten years older than me.  My mother often wondered if having my brother and Missy so closely together was the reason for Missy’s health complications.

Growing up, Missy was my best friend because her health limitations kept her at home with me.  She was my babysitter once I was old enough to be left with her.  On Saturdays we went to the mall to “window shop” and go to the movies.  My mother would let Missy buy one music album every Saturday.  We still have her 1980’s music album collection.  During the summer, Missy would sit on top of my bicycle handle bars so I could “pump” her down to the swimming pool.  She loved being in the sun.  When Missy passed away in 1987 at twenty-one years old, we picked a burial site in the sunshine for her.

Missy taught me how to truly walk in faith with God even when life is not the way we want it.  Missy also taught me gratitude, especially for my health.  Every Sunday and Wednesday Missy was at church taking in the Word.

When Missy was tired or sick, I would help take care of her.  In 1984, I spent many evenings at Texas Children’s Hospital with Missy as she underwent open heart surgery by Dr. Denton Cooley.  I remember doing my homework in the hospital cafeteria.  All of the staff knew me so I was allowed to wander the hospital by myself and then return to Missy’s room to visit with her.

In 1987, Dr. Cooley was about to operate on Missy again.  The night before her surgery,  I visited Missy and my gut knew this would be the last time I would be with her.  I spent the entire visit uncontrollably crying. Missy was calm and looked at me with compassionate eyes,  She knew it was time.  She was ready.  I gave her a hug good bye and that was the last time I saw her alive.  She passed away before the surgery.  Missy definitely went to heaven.  She was a true example of being God’s child.

Of course, kids will be kids, and because of Missy’s health condition, she had an overall color of “purple” to her complexion and lips.  Once we heard some girls mocking Missy by singing Prince’s “Purple Rain,” but instead they were singing “Purple Lips.”  Mean people incited me to fight in Missy’s defense; to stand up for someone who at times could not stand up for herself.

Kids can also have mature hearts, too.  During Missy’s senior year of high school her health was very questionable.  The quarterback of the football team, with the approval of his cheerleader girlfriend, asked Missy to the senior prom.  He picked her up in a Limosine and treated her like a princess.  Missy came home after the prom and her date and his girlfriend had the rest of the evening to enjoy together.  It was a true act of kindness that gave Missy a fun and memorable time that she would not have otherwise had.

All of these experiences at an early age contributed to my current spirituality and faith, my maternalism with my children and others’, and the fight in me for my clients seeking justice.  Missy’s influence in my life shaped me early on with strong character that would lead me to realizing my dreams.  The dream of being a mother and a lawyer and having steadfast faith to carry me through the toughest times.  When I get down, I think about Missy’s struggles and I carry on the way she would have wanted me to, not taking for granted my health and the opportunities I have been given.  Missy taught me to appreciate what God has given to me and to stay humble because He can take it away just as quickly as He gave it.

Missy was my best friend.

Photograph taken at the Sam Houston Museum in Huntsville, TX.