Note: You may remember the incident where one of my brothers insisted I remove his name from my Journal, in fact the whole post which was about my dear parents, and I was surprised he even read my writings. In the face of protest from some of you I did, and now my sister has made the same request. She has that right, I just want to clarify so you don't get confused or think I am lol since I'll have her as "M" now. I'll call her Jane, and her nickname will be Jurc. This isn't her fault, she's just very private. ( For she who knows: We must make allowances, my Maire!! ) Now on to the story:
"Cath, stop looking like that, it won't be so bad."
That was Jane of Thelma and Louise fame, my eldest sister, nicknamed Jurc. She's okay, been in Canada for almost 40 years, back in Jersey 3 years now. Anyway.....
My voice was almost a whisper. "Jurc, I really don't think..."
"That's right Loodie, if you had THOUGHT we wouldn't have to go THROUGH this now, so don't try THINKING anymore, it's too late." Her voice is clear and to the point, with a kind of clip to it. And very stubborn at times. Like this.
I couldn't even imagine doing what she'd suggested, couldn't, wouldn't, I'd already been there and did NOT like that, would NOT do it again willingly. But she's so...well Jurc has a presence.
"Listen Loodie it has to be done. How long has it been? A few years now? It's far past time." She stared at me expectantly.
I lowered my guilty eyes. "Well actually, Jurc, it's been since, well, I think maybe, MAYBE now, it was in high school." I felt the blood rush to my face.
"WHAAAAA???? High school?? How old are you now, 58?? Okay now you have NO say in the matter, I'm taking you there and you're having it done, you can't argue, you have no grounds, this is out of your hands, get used to it Loods or you'll never forgive me for the horrors I'll descend upon your life, you HEAR ME!???!!?? Panting...
"Jane, PLEEEEEEZE? Oh please, NOOO!" The witch!
I was ready to prostate myself on the floor before her. Ready to wash her hair for a month. Ready to clip her toe-mails, call her more often, even clean my bedroom...but this???
"Don't give me that look, Cathy, I'm older, I know all the tricks."
I stopped making doggy-eyes.
"Jurco, I love you. Don't you care about my mental well-being? My happiness? Security?" I was starting to run out of excuses. Now I was just sounding plain nuts. "Jane I'm BEGGING you, SPARE this torture!!"
She eyed me suspiciously.
"PLEEEASE DON'T MAKE ME DOOOO THIS!!!!!" I railed.
"Forget it." Nothing. Wouldn't budge.
I tried one more avenue, not a very fair one, but I was desperate.
Taking a deep breath, I gulped and said, "You know, MOM remembered how much this would traumatize me, how I truly hated it, would run away rather than..." She cut me off.
"Catherine Susan Dominica you will go through with this, I will take you there, stand right next to you, and you will stop this babyish whining right now. The matter is closed. This is for your own...."
I knew it was coming.
I was lost. It would happen no matter what. When my Mother took me for this process it left a memory of shame and discomfort, and I never did it again, never believed I needed to. But even if the world ended tomorrow, Jurc would make sure I was taken to the lingerie shop where the lady would take a long ugly yellow tape measure to my bare chest and measure me for a bra. I'm doomed. @ @