Marsha - Little Sister

This morning I wrote this for Marsha, we lost her yesterday. Do you have a Marsha in your life?  

March 24, 2021

By: Bob Withers

 

Marsha

 

How do you know a person? How do you know who a person really is? In a society where artificial image and what other people think are more important than who a person really is, it can be really hard to know another person.

I suppose we could also ask, “How do we let others know who we are?” In other words, “How do we know others and how do others know us?”

I’m asking these questions because I miss Marsha and can’t believe she’s left us, and I can’t believe she left us so quickly. And I want to ask her, “Why did you do that? Come back and let’s try this thing again.”

Marsha was surrounded by Bonnie, and Scott and Terry, and others who loved her; she was surrounded by love. But she was not only surrounded by people who were physically close to her who loved her, there were others who were hundreds of miles away who also surrounded her with their love and hearts and prayers, such as Vickie and me.

The reason I began by asking questions about knowing others and being known by others is that just in case someone says, “Well Bob, you say you miss Marsha, but since you and Vickie have always lived on the East Coast, and since there have been intervals of years between the times you’ve seen Marsha, how could you have known her, how could you miss her?”

That is an easy question to answer, and it’s because of what I’ll call the “magic of Marsha.” I have learned that the best relationships are those which have aged in oak casks over the years, which have acquired a seasoned flavor, a comfortable aroma, a naturalness about them, an enjoyment. The first impressions people make do not always represent the true person, but over the course of many years, seeing a person in different settings, doing things with a person, listening and watching someone – well, my point is that if what I saw when I first met someone is what I see in even greater depth 25 or 30 years later then I think I can say, “I knew Marsha and it hurts so bad that she has left us.”

Marsha was the sister I never had. The instant I met her I was comfortable with her, and she must have been comfortable with me because over almost three decades we carried on an easy banter of messing with each other, gently picking on each other – there was nothing harsh or mean about it, it was playful and fun. People used to say, “You two are acting like a brother and a sister.” Of course, I’m a generation ahead of Marsha, so being the really older brother was a part I enjoyed playing.

I was always relaxed around Marsha; with her there was no pretension, no meanness, no manipulation – there was just the magic of Marsha – and over the years she did not change the way she was, other than to grow deeper in her character.

Vickie and I will always be thankful for how Marsha cared for George in his illness; how thankful we are that Vickie’s Dad had Bonnie and Marsha with him during his winter of life.

Now if Marsha is Vickie’s step-sister, then I guess Marsha is my step-sister-in-law; but I just always thought of Marsha as Marsha, as part of our family.

Marsha never wanted anything from anyone as far I knew, other than to have a friend and to be a friend. She was easy to talk to, thoughtful, and giving – she didn’t care about being the center of attention, she was anything but that.

Two particular memories I have of Marsha are about her trips to see us, once with Bonnie and Janet and once by herself. There is a photo we have of the last one that is deep in my heart, Marsha and Janet are curled up together on our sectional sofa, in our family room, sharing an Afghan that Bonnie made for me many years ago with penguins on it. Marsha and Janet are both smiling – comfortable – that is the magic of Marsha. When Bonnie and Janet and Marsha were with us that week it was as if they’d always be there; there was plenty of fun, and laughter, and conversation, and memories, and just pure joy.

While we were in Virginia for that last visit, where we still live, Marsha’s first visit was when we lived in the Berkshire Mountains of Western Massachusetts, that time she came by herself. I have to tell you, that George and Bonnie brought their motor home to see us once in MASS, and one night they heard pounding on the door but didn’t answer it because they thought Vickie and I were messing with them – you should have seen their faces the next morning when we told them that it wasn’t us, which it wasn’t, but most likely one of the many bears in the area…but back to Marsha.

We had a wonderful week with her, with her just being Marsha, enjoying the beauty of the mountains with her and sharing a few precious days. There are some people who wear you out, there are others who energize you, and then there are others who simply have a way of making you feel better, of renewing you, of encouraging you, of appreciating you – Marsha and her magic are in that last, and most rare, category.

My special memory of her Massachusetts visit was a hike Marsha and I took up Monument Mountain. We’d hike a bit then rest, and hike a bit and then rest, and then we enjoyed the beautiful view from the top. What made the hike enjoyable was that we talked all the time. I’d taken that hike many times, but I remember that particular day in a special way because it was Marsha’s hike with Marsha’s magic and it was pure enjoyment. I remember telling Vickie what a great time we had. That hike has been a treasure to me.

Bonnie, Vickie and I love you.

Marsha, we will always love you, thank you for your magic little sister…when the time comes, I’ll meet you on top of Monument Mountain.

Bob