I thought I was in the hole before I even started. I had gone home with Kirk to Minnesota on a whim to meet his family, which consisted of his mom, dad, and his little sister. They were tight, since it was, and had mostly ever been, just the four of them. I was eager to make a good impression but afraid I'd be considered an outsider. I was in love with this guy, and I wanted his family to let me in.
Kirk called her “Krissy” all the time. In fact, he had rarely called her Kris. I’d never met her or even spoken to her on the phone, so when he called her at college and handed me the receiver after a brief chat, I said the first thing that came to mind,
“Hi Krissy! I can’t wait to meet you!”
His face went sober. His smile disappeared. His eyes grew round.
“What?” I mouthed. “What did I say wrong?” I thought maybe I had spoiled a surprise visit that he had planned. He just shook his head. I mumbled a few more sentences and handed back the phone.
“What?” I asked again.
He looked at me like I had committed the gravest of sins. “She hates when people call her that. Hates it.”
“But you call her Krissy,” I replied.
“Yes,” he said, "but I’m the only one who can. Nobody else. She hates it.” He drew his lips in to a line and shook his head. “I hope we can fix this, “ he said.
That afternoon, we drove to her apartment about an hour away. I was nervous. I kept thinking of how to best apologize and get back into my hopefully future sister-in-law’s good graces. When we got to St. Cloud, Kris met us at the car.
“Kirky!” she yelled, arms open wide for a hug.
“Kizzie!” he replied, picking her up off the ground.
“And you must be Sharron,” she smiled. “It’s so good to finally meet you! I’ve heard so much about you!”
“I’m so sorry I called you Krissy,” I stumbled. “Kirk always calls you that, and I didn’t know you didn’t like it…”
“What are you talking about? Everybody calls me Krissy. Did Kirk tell you I didn’t like it? KIRK!” she scolded, “Ya big goof!" She turned to me, "Come on in. Want something to drink?”
And so began my relationship with the best sister-in-law a girl could ever ask for.
Looking back, now that we are welcoming a new daughter and sister into our family, I see how blessed I was to have Kris in my life. From that very first day, she embraced me with 100% of her being. I never felt like an outsider around her or like I was a bother or an irritation to be tolerated. Whenever we were together, she was always asking my opinion on some trivial matter or if I would like to run errands with her. I was thrilled to offer my thoughts on which color nail polish I liked better or which shirt went best with which pair of pants. She took me to the mall and to drop off presents at her friends’ houses or to pick up something for her then boyfriend, Pete. She would send me cards in the mail with a quick note telling me to have a good day or a little present of something that she saw and knew I would enjoy.
During the lead up to the Gulf War, Kris had plans to visit Kirk for a long weekend in Texas. The airline tickets had been purchased long before Iraq had invaded Kuwait, and even though Kirk was gearing up to take off for the desert, she went down to be there whenever he got home each night. Then he asked me to come down too. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to go. I wanted to be there whenever I could. But I didn’t want to horn in on their time together. I hesitated. Then Kris called me.
“Sharron,” she said, “please come too. Kirk needs you there, and I know you want to see him, and I want us all to be happy. I’d love it if you were there too!” And whether she was lying to me or not, I never knew because she was so kind that weekend. Whenever Kirk was at the base, Kris and I would just hang out at the mall or watch a movie. And when he came home, it was like we were a unit. We sat up late and talked and laughed, and I was so very grateful that she had let me in.
During the nine months Kirk was gone, Kris and I kept in touch. She’d call me if she heard from him, and I did the same. When he came home from the war, she was in Costa Rica on a study abroad teaching assignment, and she couldn’t get home. I missed her being there.
Kris was a bridesmaid in our wedding. She “loved” the salmon colored high-low dresses I chose and complimented everything else I picked out. She sent gifts to every bridal shower thrown for me, and for our wedding, she and Pete made us a quilt.
When she and Pete tied the knot, I was a bridesmaid for her. I actually loved the bridesmaid dresses she chose and even wore it to a military ball after. I sent gifts to her showers but never got around to making a quilt in return.
Kris visited us in Hawaii after Kyle was born, celebrating with us the week after Christmas. She doted on him like any aunt does to the first nephew or niece. We went to a luau and to the beach and shopping and out to eat. I have a picture of Kyle and Kris on a merry-go-round in Honolulu at a street fair. She’s holding him on a horse, and he’s smiling from ear to ear.
Whenever we’d go visit Minnesota, Kris would come by her parents’ house almost every day. She’d bring her Stamping Up kit and teach me how to make cards and ornaments and decoupage plates. When she got into scrapbooking even more, we’d develop pictures, and she tried to get me over my loathing of cutting up photographs to crop out the unnecessary stuff. She showed me how to tell the story of the event using stickers and fancy scissors and colored paper. I was miserable with so many choices, but she was a whiz and made 5 pages for my 1. Still, at the end of whatever we had done, she praised my talent and told me how amazing I was.
Kris never said a mean thing to me. She never acted mad or resentful that I was around. She only ever treated me with the kindest of hearts and always, always made me feel like she was thrilled that I was there.
Kris got breast cancer when she was about 36. Even when she was battling her illness, she still made me feel like I was a gift. As her time drew short, she called me and asked me to come visit her. She had been in the hospital for a few days, and she didn’t think she would be going home. She said, “I want to see you.”
I didn’t think I could do it. I remember sitting down in the middle of my kitchen floor coming up with all of the reasons I couldn’t go…too expensive to fly…the kids had too many activities…I had a commitment I couldn’t get out of…
“Please, Sharron,” she said. “I need to see you.”
After I agreed to fly up, I laid in a fetal position in the floor and sobbed. How could I go and say goodbye to this woman who had embraced me as her sister? Who had so selfishly shared her beloved brother with me? Who had given so much of herself to me over the years? How could I possibly say goodbye?
When I got to Minnesota, Pete picked me up at the airport. He told me she had been sleeping most of the time and that she might not be awake when I got there. I walked into her room, leaned over, and said, “Hi Krissy, It’s Sharron. I’m here. It's my birthday, and seeing you is the best present I could have.”
She opened her eyes and smiled. “I’ve been waiting for you!” she said. I think she wished me a happy birthday, but I don’t remember. I was there for 2 more days, and she never opened her eyes again while I was around. She died less than a week later. The hole she left in my life has never filled.
Krissy broke the mold on how all sisters-in-law should be. I hope that my girls will embrace the love of their brother’s life with the same spirit that I felt from Kris. We are gaining a beautiful soul with Macey, and I want her to feel all the love I felt and more.
