My Big Sis

“You don’t mind if my little brother comes, do you?” That was not a question any teenage boy wanted to hear, especially when picking up a beautiful girl for a drive-in movie date. Not in 1960, not in decades since. There was only one polite response, probably spoken with a disappointing stammer.  “Uh.., well…, no, of course not.” 

I don’t remember what movie we saw but do recall one or two trips to the snack bar. Sharon’s date was either generous with his hard-earned cash or assumed the way to a girl’s heart was through her little brother.

Stocked with popcorn, candy and soda, we made our way back to his car. I was one happy four-year-old. This was kid paradise. I had the backseat to myself while I peered through the windshield at the movie screen and overdosed on sugary treats.

Bringing a little brother along on a date might have been a simple act of kindness.  If viewed cynically, it may have been a teenage girl dealing with a boy she didn’t like. In my eyes, it was neither.  It was my big sister showing uncommon love - love I’ve enjoyed my entire life.

                                                         

I was the caboose, the last of eight kids. Before poverty level was even a phrase, our family defined it. By the time I arrived in the world, dad was an alcoholic, unable to hold a job for long. By necessity, our mother became the breadwinner and worked outside the home. Sharon was at the difficult age of 13 when her after-school responsibility was watching her baby brother.  We bonded. Sometimes she spoiled me.

As a kindergartner, I attended school in the afternoon. I was playing with the neighbor kid one morning when my big sis called me to get ready for school.  I didn’t want to go.  Sharon shrugged.  With a simple, “Okay,” she let me stay home. Whooohooo!  Later when our mother found out, we both caught her wrath. But as the responsible older sibling, Sharon took most of the heat.  Ha ha! My big sister rocked!

Even when I did her wrong, Sharon loved me without reservation. I was about seven when she asked to take the family station wagon to go meet a friend. In the darkness of evening, I stowed away in the back seat without her knowing.  While Sharon and her girlfriend drove around town and engaged in girl-talk, l laid low.  Finally, I tired and sat up in the back seat. Sharon’s friend was shocked. “I didn’t know your brother was in the car.”  Sharon wasn’t happy and threatened trouble when we got home. I worried, but nothing became of her threats. She let me off the hook.

After marriage, my dear sister continued to dote on her little brother.  Bill Cox was very tolerant of his wife’s deep affection for me.  As a youngster, we were too poor for Disneyland vacations.  Sharon offered something better, summer-time visits to her house. Some of my fondest memories are hanging out with my big sister and her family.  Since Bill was a move-around construction worker, the location varied across the state of Arizona, from Camp Verde to Black Canyon City to Flagstaff, to Page, to Holbrook.  I loved them all.

In the movie, A Christmas Story, nine-year-old Ralphie  desperately wanted an “official Red Ryder Carbine-Action Two-Hundred-Shot Range Model Air Rifle.”  As a nine-year-old, I too dreamed of a BB gun for Christmas. Given my mother’s finances, it probably wouldn’t happen.  But thanks to a big sister and her supporting husband, there was one under the tree Christmas morning. I loved that BB gun.  I may have unintentionally plinked a few windows with it but didn’t shoot my eye out.

Aside from spoiling me, Sharon always made me feel special, expressed confidence in me and made me believe in myself. This was never more obvious when I was a college freshman.  I was a long way from home, a bit homesick, and too broke to buy all of my textbooks. How grateful I was when $200 came in the mail. Sharon and Bill were not rich. It was a sizeable sum.  But it was also a sure indication that my sister loved me and was willing to invest in my future.

A year later when I left on a two-year mission to share my faith with others, Sharon joined other family members who generously offered financial support. This experience was life changing and provided a foundation for my entire adult life.

In a few years I’ll retire from a successful career.  I’ve made a name for myself in my industry niche. I feel respected by my peers.  It’s been a career that has enabled my wife and I to provide a stable home to five wonderful kids. They’re all grown now, most with families of their own.  Without knowing it, they’re indirectly indebted to their Aunt Sharon.  She nurtured their dad, loved him, invested in him, was there for him from infant to adult,

As I look back on life, my heart is full.  How blessed I have been. Thank you, Sharon Fuller Cox for your unconditional love.  Thank you for so many contributions to my life.  Thank you for being the best biggest sister a little brother could hope for.