By Bill King
She has been gone since 2011. That will be thirteen years next week. She left us way too soon, and it seems like she’s been gone forever. She was only 62 when she died. She always loved celebrating her birthdays. She celebrated her last one less than a week before she died. Her birthday was February 8, and she left us on February 14. Yes, she died on Valentine’s Day. She was six years and five months older than me. She was my big sister. She was the only sister I had. She was my first playmate. I loved to tease her by calling her Fancy Nancy or Smancy Nancy, but most people just called her Joan. With her blond hair and blue eyes, she looked more like our father than any of us. Some even called her Little Oscar.
She was the third of four children born to Oscar and Nell King. According to our mother, she was supposed to be the last one. I am so thankful things don’t always go as planned! She was the only girl, so needless to say, growing up, she was somewhat of a tomboy. She was never the best in the world at climbing trees, but she wasn’t that bad at backyard basketball, badminton, softball, and even football. She fed me mud pies in our playhouse. She liked dogs, but she loved cats.
By the time I was old enough to begin school, our older brothers were grown and gone. So, it was pretty much Sis and me until she married and left home when I was about twelve.
It was Sis who taught me how to speak clearly. Hardly anyone could understand half of what I said until I was about seven. Since we didn’t have a speech pathologist at my school, my sister became mine. Somehow, she knew what to do and worked with me until we fixed the problem. I haven’t shut up since then! My life has been filled with speaking, preaching, storytelling, and singing. You still may not understand what I’m trying to say, but thanks to Sis, it’s not because of my pronunciation or enunciation.
Although my sister never learned to play any musical instrument, she was the one who gave me my first love of music. She constantly listened to the radio, and we played “Who sang that song?” In the early days of rock and roll, she knew them all. She and I had a small collection of records…mostly 45s but a few albums as well. We almost wore our record player needle down to a nub. She was always my encourager when I was learning to play guitar. She tried to name the tunes I played, even though they weren’t quite as recognizable as those on the radio.
She taught me about sports, especially football. Once she was old enough to drive, she took us to football games. We always stopped by our Dairy King, where she bought me burgers and shakes. She gave me my first football for Christmas one year. She wrapped it so that it looked like a log instead of a football. I almost drove myself crazy, as well as her, trying to guess what was in that package.
After she married, her husband worked night shifts, so I spent the night with her often. We would sit up half the night listening to music, playing rummy and board games, or putting together jigsaw puzzles.
Sickness may have taken her away, but nothing has taken away those wonderful memories of my time with her. I’m not sure they celebrate birthdays in heaven, but just in case, happy birthday, big Sis!
