Coinciding with my husband’s birthday, Memorial Day Weekend 2020 started out happily enough. All of our kids, their others, and the fur grandbabies came to town. We spent a fun Saturday at the beach together. Sunday was spent re-cooperating after all the excitement of five additional humans and four dogs descending in the personal space of two empty nesters. Monday we cleaned up all the sand and fur, prepped laundry, and hung pictures, you know, boring old people stuff.
Late in the afternoon James suddenly turned off his favorite Jason Aldean radio playlist and picked up the phone. Immediately I knew something was wrong. I stood quietly nearby trying to decipher the muzzled voice on the other end. Brittany? Nope. Not a female. Chris? No. Stephen? No. After ruling out all the kids, I realized it was Curtis, our brother in law. My first thought was, “Oh no, something has happened to Dad”, but then I clearly heard him use the pronoun, “her.”
James pulled the phone from his ear and said, “Terri’s gone.” What??? My sister in law, whose June 18th birthday card I’d literally finished writing and addressing only moments before was gone? No. It couldn’t be true.
Married to her brother for thirty-four years, I’ve known Terri since I was 17 and she 16. When I first came into her big brother’s life, Terri was somewhat less than thrilled. Who was this girl suddenly claiming his attention? It didn’t take long for us to first become friends and then genuine sisters.
James had already graduated high school when we met, but both Terri and I attended the same school and frequently ran into one another in the crowded hallways. Sometimes at lunch, she borrowed my car and soon I was hanging out at their house with Terri while James was away at Tarleton State University in Stephenville.
Terri with her big 80’s style curls was one of my beautiful bridesmaids. She kept me company when her brother joined the Air Force and left for basic training and tech school, tattling to him when she thought I spent too much money at the mall. We shared clothes, shoes, lake days, and walks to Mickey’s Convenience Store for raspberry Twinkies, red shelled pistachios that stained our fingers, and fountain Cokes.
There was the one time an Army GI tried to hit on me at Lake Belton. I pointed at Terri sunbathing next to me and told him I was married to her brother. He didn’t believe me. We got a good laugh as well as a sunburn that day.
Married at the tender age of 18, my go-to meals all came out of a box or can. Weekends spent in the kitchen with Terri and my mother in law transitioned me from a mere peasant in the kitchen to a bonified great cook. Credit for my ability to bake a cheesecake completely from scratch fully goes to Terri.
When James could finally have day visitors during basic training at Lackland Air Force Base in San Antonio, it was Terri who both loaned me a cute dress and then accompanied me on the almost three-hour Easter Sunday drive.
My father in law’s house still bears the scars at our horrible attempts to paint the spare bedroom. We did a terrible job with the trim! Years later we would laugh and point to the walls of the, now, playroom, sharing our teenage handiwork with our own kids.
In those young, virtually carefree years, neither of us could have imagined we’d both lose a child. We spent time grieving together, sharing our stories, and consoling each other over the heartbreaking losses of Matthew and Stephanie.
Our offspring, Amanda, Stephen, Ashley, Brittany, Chris, and Alex all born within one to two years of each other share an incredible bond, particularly Amanda and Stephen. Terri helped potty train Stephen, and after I took at part-time holiday job when Brittany was only four months old, she often consoled my nursing daughter who refused to take a bottle in my absence.
Since her Army husband deployed often, Terri was always a stay at home mom, devoting her entire life to her husband and daughters. She willingly helped my husband and me with our kids when life got too hectic and we needed a sitter. The kids loved hanging out with their cousins at Aunt Terri’s.
A talented seamstress, Terri made countless floor pillows and custom blankets for our family. The pillows are long gone, but both James and I cherish our Texas A&M and pink camo Warrior Princess blankets.
When our family was in a terrible car accident Terri, and company, traveled more than two hours to San Marcos just to fix us her famous fajitas, amazing refried beans, Spanish rice, and pico de gallo, my utmost favorite meal of hers.
Much to my chagrin, Terri often picked up strays. I know that sounds terrible, but it was how I felt sometimes when yet another family gathering included random friends or neighbors. We lived several hours away, and I selfishly wanted Terri and her girls all to myself, but to Terri anyone who crossed her threshold became family. It was her gift.
After my mother in law passed in 1997 Terri became the family matriarch of sorts, the glue the held the fractured family together. It was Terri who coordinated all family birthdays, holidays and any other gathering, and Terri who spent countless hours in the kitchen cooking and cleaning, even when she was exhausted, just to carry on the cherished traditions of my mother in law.
It was Terri who made sure my father in law decorated for the holidays, bought everyone Christmas presents, and it was Terri who lovingly wrapped all those same gifts.
Where do we go from here? Never again will the family gather to enjoy one of Terri’s amazing meals. Never again will Terri and I sit contentedly on her back porch watching our adult kids and her grandson swim or play horseshoes. Her first granddaughter born just days before Terri passed will never know the incredible love of her grandmother.
We may not have shared blood, but Terri, you were my sister, and your absence will leave a gaping hole in my heart and this world. I love you!
Until Next Time,
Becky J Miller
Warrior Princess