So Annie was taken from us almost three weeks ago now and the postmortem work rush has finally slowed down for me and her loss is probably starting to sink in. I went to call her twice yesterday. Exciting news to tell her, I was planning a social gathering that she needed to be at and a cross-country trip for which I need input. I never used to plan parties. I don’t really like trips or the unexpected. At parties I don’t know what to talk about. On trips I can’t sleep in unfamiliar surroundings. But then again, three weeks ago I was a financial planner and now I am the CEO of my sister’s company, the head of a non-profit organization, and an only child. I also hated lawyers three weeks ago, now I need them more than ever.
So it goes.
Maybe I should have a lawyer draft a letter to the Chicago Tribune to force them to print a retraction. Do they print retractions for obituaries? Annie is still dead, they can’t retract that. But Joan Kates can retract her broken promise. I told her that I was extremely busy and that I’d only give her the story if she followed two rules: 1) Annie did not die from Spinal Muscular Atrophy, it doesn’t kill us, and 2) always put the person before the disability. She was so nice, too. And a fellow Sox fan even though she worked for the enemy. I thought we were friends. I guess not.
I wouldn’t have been upset about her lack of truth in journalism a few weeks ago. But Annie, oh my oh my, she would have written them a letter, rolled down to her office with her fiery service shih-tzu Newton by her side, and given Joan the what have you! Sorry Annie, we got bigger fish to fry.
Let’s talk about my inheritance really quick. She left me a cat, a dog, and a kid named Joel. All three took care of Annie, she took care of them. Now I get that pleasure.
The cat Mercyx. I hate, HATE, HATE, his name. We almost convinced her to change it to Barack a few months ago, but she didn’t want to confuse him. But I can hardly pronounce Mercyx! So I want to change it but that seems really wrong, no? Asides from the name, it was Annie’s favorite and might be mine as well. He is convinced he is a dog and has the most interesting personality for a cat.
Then, his best friend Newt. Newt is only a few months old, is a pure-bred white albino shih-tzu Annie drove all the way to an Iowa truck stop at 4am to retrieve. Annie thought she could turn him into a service animal and she tried so hard, carrying him on her back or footrest as early as 6 weeks old. She took him to work, parties, grocery shopping, and even into fine dining restaurants. He was much the Paris Hilton dog, now he is a spoiled brat poopin and pukin everywhere. Hopefully he’ll come around, hopefully he will stop making love to the cat. And most importantly he won’t have to go to emergency vet for eating kitty litter for a 3rd time!
And then there’s Joel, my newly inherited PA. Takes me to the bathroom, buys me tator tots, answers my phones and responds to my emails when things are busy. He is still in training but has a lot of potential. Joel fancies himself some sort of cook so I might lose him to culinary school this fall. If so, please start preparing your applications early.
It’s been a much easier transition from “Stevie & Annie” to just “Stevie” than most assume. Yeh, there’s never been a Stevie without an Annie, and it makes absolutely no sense. I’m not sure I’ll ever grasp it or come to terms with it. Yes I am going through the steps of grieving and I don’t need any books. I’ll be stuck on anger for a quite a long time.
But it’s okay, I am excited for change. Positive change that happens when good people come together.
When I get angry, I get pumped. Insanely ambitious and entrepreneurial. Ready to conquer the world. This one time at college I get peeved and attempted a coup of our dorm administration. This is going to be 100x more reckless. My sister was the same way. In fact, her directive she wrote in the hospital in case she died — had nothing to do with her things or her money. It was a list of things for me to do and a list of people to go after.
I’m not kidding. I’ll scan it when it’s appropriate.
So I’m going to need your help. They messed with the wrong gimp.
More information soon. I have to cut this short. My mom’s birthday is this weekend and must shop, and I have an interpretive dance presentation to attend tonight at Diamonds Gentleman’s Club.
So long,
Stevie
Oh, and PS. Thank you to my immediate and extended family for taking care of the houses and office. For cooking and cleaning. For being my mom’s shoulder and my dad’s kleenex while I was preparing for war. Thank you to my friends for taking a week off work to force feed me when I couldn’t eat. For answering my phone when I was sick and tired of answering the same questions. For taking me to the doctor to get my pee tested so I can get back on the juice and feed myself again. Thank you to the almost 2,000 people who showed up at the wake, even if you never got inside the door. Thank you to Annie’s friends I’d never met who I now call my friends. Thank you to the girl who spooned me every night to make me forget that I am alone but not lonely. Thank you to NeverShoutNever! for being a 17-year old badass and providing shitty pop music for my teen craving. Thank you to Red Lobster for making me so happy but oh so sick. Thank you to Outback Steakhouse for much the same. Thank you GNC MegaMan and MRI Creatine for giving me the strength to type this.
Thank you to the over 100 donors who have already collectively donated $15,000 to her foundation in only 3 weeks!
Thank you Annie for dying for what you believe in and giving others something to live and fight for.
