Sister Sugar
Wanna know the best gift a momma can give her child? A sibling! (If you’re an only child, I am sorry your mom didn’t think you were cool enough to have your own sibling.)
My momma made sure that when I was 2 years, 6 months, and 10 days old, I got my very own little sister. Jessica Jon Short, born November 13, 1987, on a Friday…..and at 11:13 am. Just her birth date and time should have you worried. Y'all she came out with jet black hair that stuck straight up. I obviously don’t remember this, but man have I seen the pictures. See for yourself at the end of this!
We were pretty close growing up, since we were so close in age. Without a doubt we had our ups and downs. Our highs were plentiful but our lows were LOOOOOOOWWWW. We both fought our own demons and oftentimes our internal struggle affected our relationship with each other. But we always managed to find a way back to each other. We texted or spoke to each other on the phone almost everyday. No matter what, she was the one person who knew me better than anyone else. We were raised in the same house, we shared our parents (really parent because my dad was MIA), we went to school together most years, and most people couldn’t tell us apart on the phone. The best thing we got to share? Our inappropriate, morbid, offensive, laugh inducing, sense of humor, that mostly resulted in my mom just hanging her head down while shaking it back and forth. I mean hell, we were funny apart, but boy were we fucking hilarious together. We used to laugh until our faces hurt and those little hidden ab muscles we have ached. I don’t even want to admit how many times one or both of us peed our pants, from laughing so hard.
I can’t even put into words how much I miss those days. You see, I didn’t have enough of them. I needed more. But all good things must come to an end, right? I laughed with my sister until the day she left me. Just 27 years, 5 months, and 21 days after I got the best gift ever, it was taken away.
On Sunday, May 3, 2015, my sister came to visit me and take me to lunch, because it was my 30th birthday that day. She came to my house, played with Ellenore (her niece), and then took me to Applebee’s for lunch and Dairy Queen for dessert. (Dipped cones > everything) When we got back to my house, she came in to visit for a little bit and then it was time for her to head home. She had work the next day and so did I, so she gathered up her things to get on the road. She lived about 2ish hours away and didn’t want to be on the road too late. I remember so vividly her standing at my back door telling us how much she loved us and that she would text me when she got home.
As it turns out, I would never get that text, or any others from her. Her fiance texted me a few times between when she left and around 9pm, letting me know she wasn’t home. I am sure this would worry most people, but if you knew my sister, you knew she did whatever the hell she wanted, whenever she wanted to do it. She wasn’t really the kind of girl to check in, or get approval, or update people repeatedly of her whereabouts. So we just figured she was off visiting with a friend, or going for a drive, or eating Taco Bell in a parking lot somewhere, nothing too alarming. I texted her a few times to just let us know what was going on, but there was never a reply. I had a 5 month old at the time and I was exhausted, so I decided to go ahead and get some sleep. Around midnight, I woke up to my phone ringing, the screen lit up with her name, and I thought, lord, what has this crazy girl gotten herself into at midnight? How do you bail someone out of jail? What would she even have done to get arrested? So I quickly answered and said “WHERE ARE YOU??”, the person who replied was not my sister. I can still hear the man saying, “ma’am, is this Jami? Are you Jessica’s sister? I am a Louisiana State Trooper”. So I said of course, definitely not prepared for what he would say next. He says “ma’am, can you let us in? We are at your back door.” So I go down stairs to open our door for him ,where he stands, with his partner, Jessica’s cell phone in his hand, both of them wearing those hats, campaign hats I believe they’re called. And they ask to come in, so I welcome them in, all while standing in my nightgown, eyes still squinted a bit because the light was just turned on. He asked me if I would like to have a seat, and that is when I knew, I knew exactly what he was going to say, so before he could say it, I just asked, “Is my sister dead?”, and his reply was “I am sorry, yes ma’am, your sister was involved in a roll over accident around 4pm today”. I was so much in shock I couldn’t even react to the news. All I can remember is apologizing over and over to these two police officers, yall, I was apologizing that they had to come give me the news, because I knew that couldn’t have been an easy part of their job. They left a little while later, not really able to give me very much information about what happened.
Wanna know what’s worse than being notified on your birthday of your sister's death? Realizing you were the next of kin notified and your momma doesn’t know. In the middle of a Sunday night, 3 hours before my mothers alarm clock would go off I had to call her. I told her to wake up Mr. Joe (her husband, my step-dad), I needed to tell her something, she said “JUST TELL ME”. So I did, “Momma, the police just left and they said Jessica was in a really bad car accident and she didn’t make it.” To be completely honest, I don’t remember the rest of that conversation. I do remember climbing back into my bed around 2am and sobbing so hard it physically hurt, until I cried myself to sleep. I woke up again around 5am, got up, got dressed, packed the baby a bag, and we got on the road to go to my mom's house. I needed to be with her, I needed to see her. That whole day was a blur, family and friends stopped by, offered condolences, gave hugs, and tried to be as supportive as possible. Everyone was curious about what happened and how she could have such a severe accident on a beautiful day, with no obvious explanation. We would never find out why, there were no other vehicles involved, her car rolled 4 or 5 times before striking a tree, we believe she died on impact. But we will never know exactly what happened. Once we cried all we could cry, we got to work. How do you even write an obituary? What if I misspell something? Why are these things so fucking expensive? It was a task that I was certain my mother couldn’t sit through, so I did it, and who better than to write about Jessica than her sister, the one who knew her the best? See her obituary here —->Jessica Messica
That evening I headed back to our house, about 2.5 hours away, because I HAD to be at work the next day, my kids(students) would be taking the PARCC test, and I would never let someone else give them that test, they NEEDED me, only me! For the next two weeks I went to work every day, my husband drove me because I was terrified to drive with my daughter in the car, because clearly, anything could happen.
My sister never wanted a funeral and didn’t want to be buried. She always said she wanted to be cremated, and possibly sprinkled into some assholes milkshake that she never really liked. If you’re an asshole, and you think she doesn't like you, have you ever eaten anything I have prepared? (Insert evil laugh) Don’t worry, I would never do that. One time my mom opened her ashes to put some in a little vial that I have hanging from my rearview mirror, and when I saw the ashes weren’t smooth like baby powder, I started gagging. So I would never use them as an ingredient, I swear!
Some sweet people who were part of her support system and friend group hosted a beautiful memorial for her. We were all able to talk about her and see her sweet picture and share stories about her, which offered some closure.
My mom ended up having a private viewing for the immediate family at the funeral home prior to her cremation, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t convince myself to go. You see, the last time I saw my sister, she was SO alive, so happy, and so well. I just couldn’t see her hurt and damaged. So I decided not to go. That decision is something I regret, not because I needed to see her one more time, but I regret not being there to hold my momma's hand and to support her through such an awful time.
So as my sister wished, she was cremated, and her ashes were put into a beautiful wooden box that my mom had made, and that box has sat in my mothers house until Tuesday, November 9, 2021, when me and my dad brought my sister's ashes to be entombed in a bench at Resthaven Gardens of Memory. The bench is at the head of my mothers grave and this was done in an effort to fulfil my mom's desires. Days before her own death, she asked that Jessica goes with her. So now, my sister and my mother are in the same spot. When I go to see my momma, I get to be with Jessica too.
For those who know my family, you know we do not usually call Jessica's cremains “ashes”. Ya see, when someone passes while one of your children isn’t even one, and the other two don’t exist yet, it's hard to explain to them who she was and where she is now. I have always tried to be honest with them without being scary. I wasn’t sure how to explain cremation without them thinking you just set a living person on fire. So we told them that they put Aunt Jessica into a special machine that turned her into a pretty powder….. both of the kids thought about it for a second and my daughter exclaims “they turned Aunt Jessica into SUGAR?!?!?!”. To which I quickly responded, “EXACTLY!!!!!!!!!!”. So, we didn’t put her ashes in that box, we put her sugar. When the kids heard me talking about moving her from the table next to my mom's side of the bed, they wanted to know what we were doing with Aunt Jessica's sugar.
Aunt Jessica's sugar is safe, entombed in the most expensive bench I have ever seen, in a beautiful “Garden of Memory”, as close to our momma as we could get her.
If you are lucky enough to have a sibling, give them a hug, pick a fight with them, shoot them a text, tell them to fuck off, anything. And let them know how much you love them, a million times is never enough.
