Sail on, silver girl

And the hits just keep on coming.

Last week, I told FRINAN that I had heard from a friend of my sister's that she was thinking of moving to Oklahoma. Kalynda went up there when Granddaddy died, and felt revitalized. So she was considering moving there for a while.

"That would suck," FRINAN said.

"No," I said. "She needs a fresh start. She's miserable here, and can't get away from the people that are making her that way. She needs to start over."

"Um," FRINAN said. "I meant it would suck...for you."

"Oh."

But Kalynda said nothing of it to me when she returned. And I forgot about it. Until Friday night, when my cell phone started blaring at one-thirty in the morning. She was in tears. She was wailing and sobbing, and wasn't making a great deal of sense. But one thing came out clear: "I'm moving to Oklahoma." And soon: "I don't know when, but sometime next week."

But she didn't just call me. She also called our cousin, and our aunt and uncle, and scared the hell out of everyone. I won't elaborate on the specific situation that precipitated this mess, because I'll get so angry I won't be able to see to type this. Suffice to say, the big board flashed DEFCON-1, and "Next week" became "tomorrow."

They drove down here from OKC straight away, rented a Budget truck and showed up to take her away, all at a moment's notice. (Do you remember what I said about despising my father but loving his family? I'm convinced now more than ever that my father was the result of some twisted, Once Upon a Time in America shenanigans that stuck him with his family. There is just no way he and his brothers are actually related to each other.)

So this morning, we loaded everything she owns into a truck and sent her on her way. And now she's gone.

She was upset about leaving. During that first phone call, she kept apologizing. She didn't want to leave me. She wanted me to reassure her, to tell her it was a good idea. And I wanted to scream, "No! No, it's not a good idea! You can't leave me! You're the only sister I have! You're pretty much the only real family I have left here at all! Are you crazy?"

But I swallowed all that. I choked it down and said, "Don't worry about me. You have to do what's best for you right now." God, how that burns. If you love someone, set them free -- easier said than done, my friends. In practice it sears like drinking battery acid.

We packed it all into the truck, wrangled Jabba the Hutt her cat into his carrier, fastened her car to the tow dolly. They drove away and left me alone.

I got into the car and started back home. My iPod -- sleek, black, evil, sentient -- was set to shuffle, and spat out "Bridge over Troubled Water." And not the original, either, but Johnny Cash's haunting duet with Fiona Apple. Her voice covers his like a silk sheet. I was fine for the first verse. And the chorus. And the second verse. And most of the second chorus. But then came the third verse. And I lost it.

Sail on, silver girl
Sail on by
Your time has come to shine
All your dreams are on their way
See how they shine
If you need a friend
I'm sailing right behind
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind



Sail on, Kalynda. I love you. And I hope you get better. You deserve better.

If anyone needs me, I'll be trying to clear out whatever it is that's making my eyes water so much. Gee, they've been going for a while. Must be allergies.

----------------
Now playing: Johnny Cash - Bridge over Troubled Water (with Fiona Apple)
via FoxyTunes