Suzy Says

Megan and her ambulance

My sister Megan is nine years and nine days younger than I am. We always joke that makes us some kind of twins.

Nine years can be a big age difference, especially when one of you is, say, sixteen and the other is seven. Once I was getting ready for a date, and Megan watched me get ready. As I finished putting on make-up, she sighed, “Oh, Suzy, you’re so pretty. But you’re prettier when you’re all colored in.”

Aren’t we all?

As a little kid, she always wanted to tag along, and as older kids, my brother and I never wanted her to. “I’ll catch up one of these days, ” she said. “You’ll see.”

Catch up she did.

She got married six months after I did, and unlike me, she is still married. She became a Montessori teacher, and then an Emergency Medical Technician. She cared for Dad in his final illness and broke the news of his death to everyone, including me. She had Mom living in her house for the last few years of her life, and, yes, was the one to tell me of Mom’s death, too.

All this before the age of 35.

Somehow, the baby of the family has become its matriarch. She is the glue holding the ragged remains of our family together.

She lived with me for her last few years of high school, when Dad retired back to his native England and Mom wasn’t able to take care of Megan. I moved cities and found a place big enough for both of us. I went to her parent-teacher interviews, waited up for her when she went out on dates (all colored in), and enjoyed having her friends visit and sleep over. I wanted to give her a safe and happy place to live, and I think I succeeded.

I’d like to think that I had something to do with helping her become the amazing person she is. Whenever I’m asked in job interviews what my best achievement is, I always think “Megan.”

As I write, she’s out meeting Monica to rescue a pit bull in trouble (details withheld at my request). When she gets home from that, she’s having company for dinner, and tomorrow is teaching a five hour CPR class before joining Jessica, Erica, and me at the Mad Hatter Tea Party in Mendocino. She worked 48 hours this week, in the form of 12 hour shifts, three of them night shifts. After her last night shift, she drove home at 6 am, got up in the afternoon, and drove back for a two hour staff meeting* at 6:30 pm. This was last night, and today she’s already up and out, fighting the good fight. Because that’s the kind of girl she is. That’s my Megan.

*Where her attire of bee boots, Red Rooster Records (a now defunct record store whose logo was a motorcycle riding rooster with the slogan “In Your Ear”) sweatshirt and hair in braids got a ridiculous amount of attention, including one guy who wanted to take her picture for Facebook. I think they’re just jealous of the bee boots. Also that they have never seen her morning ensemble of scrubs, bathrobe, bee boots and sunglasses.