I lied to a lot of hairdressers after my sister died.
I never meant to lie. Melissa’s death was sudden and awkwardly made me the oldest child. In the weeks and months (and even years) after she died, I would panic during small talk.
The words came out before I could stop them. My sister used to live in Kalispell.
The words hung in the air.
Maybe not.
I don’t know the polite answer. Imagine if I told the truth.
Imagine if I tried to over-explain.
Alienating.
A few years later, I moved to Washington, D.C. for a job. Meeting new people gave me lots of opportunities to improve my answers.
I still panicked.
Sometimes people asked questions about my siblings, which meant discussing Melissa. How did I deal? By playing dodgeball.
I wasn’t good at dodgeball.
Before she died, Melissa adopted a cat named Snibbles. Melissa made a Facebook page for Snibbles, like all responsible pet owners.
Rolland was my first new friend in D.C. and he noticed I was friends with Snibbles on Facebook.
My parents adopted Snibbles when Melissa died.
Rolland didn’t know I had a sister who died. He didn’t know Snibbles was Melissa’s cat and nobody had access to her Facebook page.
Probably because I lied about it.
I ignored the situation until my birthday. My birthday was two weeks after I moved to D.C.
Rolland was my first new friend.
Should I risk alienating him?
Admitting a lie about my dead sister’s cat seemed like I might return to zero friends.
I tried guessing the password. It couldn’t be that hard.
It was that hard.
Besides being my first new friend, Rolland was also my colleague. He sat next to me in the office every day. It felt really important to know the password because Snibbles was making me look like a dick.
I tried playing dodgeball.
To my delight, Rolland played along.
It felt nice to blame Snibbles.
At some point in our friendship, Rolland learned about my sister and the plane crash that killed her. I did not tell him Snibbles was her cat.
I told Rolland the truth about Snibbles four years later over text message when we no longer lived in the same place or worked together.
It’s probably too late to come clean to the hairdresser.
I stumbled upon these comics after seeing your Tiny Love Story, and going “ah, somebody else with a dead sibling! What’s their deal? Do they write other things about how much it sucks to have a dead sibling?”
I am delighted to find a blog, which seems to be a dying art form now that Instagram and Tik Tok have us all reliant on dopamine hits every 20 seconds. I miss blogs though! It’s like reading someone else’s journal.
Anyway, this is such a dreaded thing… How do you bring up a major bummer that makes everybody else uncomfortable? My brother and only sibling died in 2008, and it took probably a decade, but now I just get it over with and always just come out with him being dead if it’s relevant/I will have to do an uncomfortable dance of deception afterwards if I don’t/I will definitely see the person again.
For example, I might say “I grew up with a brother, but he died when I was twenty” if I’m ever asked the dreaded “How many siblings do you have?” question. About 50% of the time they follow up with “OH WOW HOW’D THEY DIE?” When I reply “SUICIDE, LOL” I can see the panic in their eyes, realizing they’ve now only mafe this pit of despair deeper, and I typically then go “… WHAT ABOUT YOU? ANY SIBLINGS?” and the conversation moves on.
Thank you for these comics!
Cat! Thank YOU for writing! Beautiful, funny, sad, honest words you’ve written here. I’m delighted you found my blog. I agree–blogs are awesome! I love them!
Your story ending with “SUICIDE, LOL” made me laugh out loud which is of course so inappropriate of me and connecting and exactly why I’m writing all these comics and love hearing other people’s stories. This stuff is all so hard and awkward and I think you are amazing for just coming out and saying it. I write about my dead sibling all the time and can’t seem to stop. There’s just so much to say. I’m still working on the delicate dance of bringing up the massive bummer of a dead sibling, but I’ve made my work these comics, so I have to talk about her. And honestly, it’s a really nice thing. Doesn’t always go over well, but sometimes, it leads to some pretty profound connection. Like now!
I’m sitting here on the couch in my living room appreciating you for your honesty, candor, and humor. I had surgery this week and laughing just really helped my heart. Thanks for taking the time to write!