SHELLEY'S LETTER

Brrring. Briiiing. Briiing. It had only been a week and there were still a flood of calls coming into the Marsh household. Shelley had barely set down her keys after coming home from work when she had to take hold of the phone ringing in the kitchen. Her father was taking care of business in Denver while her mother was in her bedroom. Fellow neighbor and baby-sitter of the Marsh kids since they were babies, Barbra Hearton, had been looking out for Sharon until Shelley came home. Now that she was home Shelley wanted to go up and check on her mom but was stopped by the ringing telephone.

"Hello?" she asked rather heavily.

"Is this the Marsh home?" spoke a female voice.

"Yes."

Some rustling on the other end. "My name is Patricia Gellaway. I work as the library aid for South Park Jr. High. I just called to tell the Marshes I am deeply sorry for their loss."

Shelley sighed. "Thank-you."

"I don't remember Stanley too well but I am sure he was a wonderful boy and what happened to him was so tragic. So young."

"Yes, I know."

"I was wondering where I could send a little something for the grief? Are there any fundraisers being held in the poor boy's name?"

Shelley rubbed her itchy eyes. "There is the Smiles for Stan Fund which is currently collecting money to help pay off all the medical expenses. You may make any donations to 1002 Pine Tree Road South Park. That's the current location for donations."

A pause.

"May I ask whom I'm speaking to?" Ms. Gellaway or whoever asked.

Shelley sighed. "The sister of the recently deceased boy we're discussing."

Shelley was able to shake the lady off a minute later. It was almost time for dinner and as it had been the past couple weeks, she would be in charge. She didn't feel up to making anything though; she was exhausted from working the past few days and dealing with the idiots at Rocky Mountain Sweets as well as the stress that came from the recent death of her brother. Yes Shelley Marsh was deeply sadden she had lost her one and only brother. The two had grown closer the past two and a half years and even though she was sure Stan had treasured every moment it didn't stop her from feeling sick. Not a day went by she found herself wishing she could turn back time and apologize for everything she had ever done to him (within reason). If only Shelley had known years ago that Stan would suffer through leukemia she might have gone easy on him and they could have had more years with a healthy sibling relationship. Again, she was certain Stan died happy, knowing his sister was there for him, but it still made her skin crawl in an annoying way.

Shelley realized she had been home for close to half an hour now; time to check in on her mother. She made her way upstairs and cracked open the master bedroom door. The room was dark.

"Mom? I'm home," Shelley said gently, stepping in.

Sharon was sitting up in bed with no real expression to her face. She clutched a wad of tissue.

"Mom?"

No response. Shelley sighed.

"Mrs. Hearton told me you didn't step out this room at all today." Nothing from Sharon. Shelley went on. "Look, I'm going to do something for dinner so I kind of want you to come downstairs and eat when it's ready, okay? I'll- I'll come get you soon." silence was her answer. She knew her mom wouldn't say anything so she shut the door and went back downstairs. She decided to just call for a pizza for a quick dinner.

Trying to get her mind in order while the pizza man came, Shelley began to go about the house to tidy it up even if she was already done with messes for the day. There were dozens upon dozens of sympathy cards strewn about the living room, Shelley thought it best to get them sorted out and display them, if only for a short while. Not all of course, just those who her family actually cared about or knew. No one needed a reminder Stan was no longer with them but the cards were so beautiful and people poured their hearts out to try and make the Marshes feel better. She found a random card on the floor.

With deepest sympathy

Read the cover in fancy writing. She opened it to see if it was worth lying about- ignoring the card's pre-written poem.

Marsh family-

I write this with a heavy heart. I am so sorry for your loss. I am sure there is no pain greater than that of losing one's child. I just want to say I feel so blessed to have known your son. Stanley was such a sweet, cute, bright, little boy and was one of the reasons I could not wait to step foot into work each day. I will never forget joking around with him and the other nurses about what a wise yet blunt child he was. I will always remember his bright shining eyes and sweet, crooked grin. I am so happy I got to know him when I did. Just remember, he is with Jesus now, running his own zoo in heaven. Stanley will be missed greatly by everyone he touched.

My best wishes,

Michelle Tenten

Shelley frowned as she looked at the card. Michelle… Michelle… it then hit her- Nurse Michelle had been Stan's favorite nurse since he began chemotherapy. Even if Stan was having one of his bad days he would always be happy to see the young black woman come in. She had an active imagination and was great at transporting Stan in a different state of mind during blood draws and IVs. She was also a favorite to the family as well. With a slight smile Shelley propped it up on the fireplace mantel. Twenty minutes later the doorbell rang. Shelley took hold of the money she had set out for the pizza delivery and paid the young pimply pizza boy $14.40 before setting the pie on the dining room table. She went back upstairs to her mother's room to find her in the same state as when she left.

"Mom, the pizza's here. I want you to eat something today okay?"

Sharon turned her head slowly to her daughter. "Wh-what?"

"Mom- dinner. Food. Pizza?"

Sharon shook her head, same tissue she held an hour before still clutched in her hand.

"Mom I want you to eat downstairs with me. You didn't get out of bed all day. Please…"

Shelley gave up trying to convince her mother to eat five minutes later; she just wasn't in it to argue. Instead she brought up two slices on a plate and a cup of Pepsi for her.

"I got Hawaiian, I know it's your favorite," Shelley said softly. "I'll be back up soon. And I better see all the pizza on this plate gone." She didn't know if her mom heard her or not. Shaking her head Shelley went back downstairs and got her own plate and drink ready. She sat at the table in the living room, pushing aside the cards and whatnot on it for her food. She didn't want to watch TV as she ate so went back to sorting the cards, taking extra care not to stain them with pizza fingers.

One from the Samuelsons down the street. Nice simple card but they weren't close so she put it in the pile to the left of her. One from Mrs. Burgam, Stan's kindergarten teacher. She was a nice lady and one of his best teachers, that was in the display pile. Pete Erikson? She didn't know anyone of that name and the card led no answers so it was in the pile of those less-important people. She then spotted an envelope with the name Shelley written on it in purple Sharpie. She frowned, turning the thing over. Had someone given a sympathy card to just her? She felt the envelope- it didn't feel like a card was inside. Her stomach then flipped; she knew that handwriting. Fingers shaking she opened the envelope up and yes- unfurled a letter three pages long, each word written in Stan's crammed untidy lettering. Those loops he did on his y's and g's. Squeezing words at the end of each line. All his. What was it doing in a pile of cards? She had wondered where it had gone after her brother's lawyer presented it to her but she didn't think that hard on it for she had plenty else on her mind. But it was here now and she had wondered about it for a week now. Might as well see what he had written her. She wiped her fingers on her napkin and drank from her soda. Three pages. What on earth did her little brother go on about to her of all people for three pages? She was highly curious.

"Okay Stan, why did you write to me?" she wondered aloud as she flattened the first page.

Looking down from the Shelley written on the title line, Shelley read the first sentence.

First off, are you surprised I'm even writing you a letter?

"A little. I thought you told me all you needed to months ago…" she sighed.

If so it must mean I indeed passed on. Whether or not you're dancing about this now is your call.

Shelley frowned; they had gotten closer the past two years, surely Stan knew she wouldn't be happy he had died.

Anyway, I have decided to write a 'final thoughts' letter to all those people who have made my life just a bit better. Shockingly you are one of those people. I guess I should just get right to it.

Shelley, even though we have had too many bad memories together I could write 10 books about it, you were my sister and I loved you.

Shelley gave a slight grin, the famous lame words her brother would always tell her. It made her hit him when he was eight but now…

There I said it. Shelley, it hurts me a lot to know you have resented my face ever since Mom gave birth to me, perhaps even before. It stings me to know that the majority of my life I did not have that kind, caring, thoughtful, fun older sister most kids have.

Shelley sighed, knowing he would say something like this so soon in the letter.

It has hurt me all my life. Was it intentional? Why? Why did you hate me so? I never did ANYTHING to make you hate me. If it was all just because I was the youngest and got most of Mom and Dad's attention, that's low. As the saying goes, I didn't ask to be born. You shouldn't blame me for your life. You shouldn't hate me just because I exist. The more mature thing you should have done was get to know me.

Shelley sighed, feeling frustrated already. She wished she could deny his words so far but they were the truth no matter how painful it was to read.

Embrace the fact that you had a little brother.

"Damn it Stan, I do now. And- and not long ago…"

I know that's unlikely to happen but I would have loved for one moment when I was young that solidified the fact that you loved me. I can't think of many of those moments. Isn't that sad?

Tears were already burning Shelley's eyes and she was never one to get emotional. Again, if she hadn't grown to like her little brother the past two years she might hate on him right now. Then again, if they hadn't formed some sort of relationship would she even be reading this letter at all? She was seventeen now and she had grown up a lot since she was twelve. Sure Stan had his annoying habits and whatnot but what younger sibling didn't? He was right, she didn't have a real good reason to hate him all this time and now it was making her feel terrible. She wished she could have seen the good person Stan was years ago and not have to have so much guilt raining over her shoulder. They honestly didn't have many great memories together and that was sad. But she also knew Stan died happy, knowing they did become close as time went by. She was sure he'd bring that up sometime soon.

"You stupid little turd… you know I liked having you around the past couple years. Don't make this out to be one giant guilt-trip…"

Does it make you sad to know you had a very unhealthy relationship with your only brother? Again, I'm just pulling shit out of my ass now. It hurts me a lot to think back on my life with you. Whenever I saw a kid getting help from his sister, you were beating me up. Whenever I saw a boy getting a lift from his sister to the drinking fountain you were pushing my face into it. Whenever a boy was kicking around a ball with his sister, you were hitting me over the head with it. Whenever a boy was playing with his sister, you were breaking my toys. Do I need to go on?

"No," Shelley answered the letter. "I'm sorry okay Stan?"

I'm upset knowing I could never go to you for anything.

Shelley's stomach bubbled horribly at that honest statement.

If I hurt myself and could not find Mom I dare not go to you. I had to sit and cry and bleed until Mom was done doing whatever. Whenever I had trouble with homework I could never go to you for tips. I hated learning multiplication, knowing you've been a master at it for four years. More than me. Yet I had to struggle with 5x3 and 12x12. So many times I wanted comfort from you. So many times I cried in bed when Mom was out for the night and Dad couldn't comfort me.

Shelley, as my older sister your duty was to be a mother figure to me. Your duty was to look out for me. Your duty was to teach me things. Pass down fun tips and tricks only siblings can share. LISTEN to me. Hug me.

At this Shelley felt tears burn her eyes. Really, why had it been so hard to just hug him once in a while? She wasn't a very affectionate person but it was her duty to be this way to her younger sibling.

It's all there written in the official GUIDE FOR BIG SISTERS TO LITTLE BROTHERS. You must not have read your copy on Oct. 19th, 2001.

Shelley glared at his sarcasm.

I know it's not good to guilt-trip people but you're the exception. I cannot begin to list all the bad stuff you did to me. Breaking my toys. Hiding my toys. Throwing me down the stairs! Putting my toothbrush down the toilet so many times. Hitting me. Kicking me. Biting me. Throwing things at me. Hurting me in all sorts of ways. Really. And this is just a preview.

At this Shelley had to stop and rub her itching eyes. By now her pizza was cold and she was hardly touching it. Ice was steadily melting in her cup. She was feeling very indifferent. While some words made her angry, others made her feel as guilty as ever. She didn't know which the proper way to feel was. And now he was listing some of the things she did to him on a regular basis. And as Stan put it, it was only a preview. What else did he want to try and guilt-trip her on? How would it make her feel? She kept telling herself they did form a special bond not long ago and knowing her brother, he was going to mention that soon. But Shelley had to take a break and check on their mother.

"Mom?" Shelley poked her head in Sharon's room and found her on her side, asleep, fingers clutched onto something small. Curious Shelley crept over as well to make sure she was at least breathing. She was and upon closer inspection found the item in her hand was a sock. Most likely her brother's. Sharon needed something of his to hold onto so she could have at least a little sleep each night. Tonight it was Stan's sock. Shelley touched her mom's shoulder.

"I'll be down if you need me Mom…"

With a deep breath Shelley went back down. She decided to finish her slice of pizza and down her Pepsi before returning to her letter. With now clean fingers she smoothed it out again, feeling weird and confused all over again.

Remember when I was 4 and you threw me off of Mom and Dad's bed? I was dizzy and for a while freaked Mom out, she thought I suffered actual head damage. Or how 'bout when I was six and you and Krissa restrained me and tried to give me a paper cut between each finger? Thankfully Dad stopped you and you only were able to do three fingers. That was one of the worst things you've ever done to me! It hurt so much. I couldn't use my hand for hardly anything for over a week due to the band-aids between each finger. The guys ripped on me for this. I'm sure you're laughing about it now but it was horrible.

Shelley sighed and placed a hand to her head. Yes she remembered that day. It was one of her favorite memories a few years ago before Stan was diagnosed with leukemia. Just another boring Sunday afternoon. She and best friend Krissa could not think of anything fun to do so they rested on doing something to torment Stan. That was what usually ended up happening if they had no other options, and luckily both found great entertainment in picking on her little brother. First to get him all to themselves. They had walked into his room and lied and told him they had a special fun game planned with him in Shelley's room. Luckily Stan was still plentiful gullible at age six and it didn't take long for him to comply. Once there Shelley had shut the door and minutes later Krissa had Stan pinned in her arms. She was almost as strong as Shelley was and could easily hold down Stan. And his right hand were forced out, fingers spread and SHHRRIIP. The paper sliced between three fingers, but Stan's screams caused Randy to hurry in and stop the girls from continuing. It was worth being grounded for two weeks. It was a priceless thing to do and so easy.

It made Shelley's stomach do that weird guilt bubble now at the age of seventeen though. How could she have been so cruel? To take a little boy's hand and cut between his little fingers. Nobody liked paper cuts. They were such tiny yet painful injuries that stung like a bitch and pissed you off the rest of the day. She didn't blame Stan at all for calling her out on that. She felt no sense of accomplishment about it now. Back to the letter…

Or how about when I was seven, and you broke my finger? Remember that Shelley?

Shelley's eyes went wide. Truth be told she didn't until he mentioned it.

"Oh god, I didn't. Please tell me I didn't actually break a bone of yours. I- I don't think it ever went that far…"

Remember taking Moo-Moo the cow from me and me chasing you all around and me at your door and you closing it on my hand at just the right moment? Mom couldn't believe you did that either. I mean what kind of big sister breaks her brother's finger Shelley?

Shelley wanted to defend herself, and probably would now if she could and say it was an accident. But she knew she was evil back then, it very well could have been on purpose the whole time. Either way it wouldn't make a difference now, Stan would still be pissed at her for it.

How about when I was 8 and you held my head under water in that hotel pool in CA? That fucking terrified me bitch! ! ! You don't hold people under water, especially if they have asthma! I went my whole life with a tight chest and gasping for air- I would have liked those moments to have been because of my asthma, not my sister trying to kill me or something.

Shelley drew in a deep breath. "Shit Stan, you aren't coming on lightly on me so far. I-I really was as bitchy as you made me out to be. I'm sorry about it now bro…"

Okay, you should have gotten the point by now. Even though we've had our differences I don't want to guilt-trip you anymore.

Shelley was curious; there were still almost two pages left. Surely they weren't filled with love now, what else was there to say but all the bad childhood memories she was responsible for?

There have been happy memories involving you. Let's get back to my asthma: you were a true big sister when it came to that. You would always get my inhaler or nebulizer if you knew I needed it. You never hid my medicine or made me wait longer to receive treatment. I thank you for that.

At this Shelley smiled. Finally something she could feel okay about.

I also want to thank you for busting me out of trouble a lot of times from Mom and Dad.

Shelley felt a tiny smile play on her lips as she looked at the letter with sad eyes. "It's what big sisters are for Stan…"

Every kid is afraid of getting his ass in deep shit at home but there were times you acted as if I were innocent. Remember when I made that big stain from my juice on the carpet and you told Mom you did it? I can still see her face when she looked at you. I could tell she knew who really did it but she never said anything. Also when I got paint on the carpet when I was 5? You said you were the one who did it, even going as far as getting paint on your hands to be more convincing. Thank-you so much for doing these kinds of things Shelley.

Thanks for giving me some comfort. Thanks for all the hugs even though they were so few. Those hugs made me feel as if you might have actually liked me.

Now for the past few years…

Shelley braced herself before she went on. She drank deep from her Pepsi, wondering how she would come off in the rest of the letter.

Wow. All I can say is wow. You stepped up and acted like the big sister I've always wanted. Thanks-you so much for the past three years. It warms me so much to think of you caring. Helping me dress when I couldn't. helping me with homework I've fallen behind on. Helping me walk and get in and out of bed when I was too sick to. Asking how I was feeling. And now, driving me to and from Children's when Mom couldn't.

And these were the words that broke Shelley. She put the letter down angrily as tears fell from her eyes and she shuddered in soft sobs. Reminders. Reminders of all she had indeed done for him. Reminders of just how sick and weak he really was. Visions of Stan lying in that hospital bed, sick and pale and hooked up to so much. It was just a chore at first, something her parents would nag her about all the time. But only when the weeks and months began to go by did she realize how sick Stan really was. That she couldn't hit him anymore because it would bruise his body in an instant. That any normal thing could be dangerous. That he was too sick to even flush the toilet bare-hand. He was sick and hurting and for once she had nothing to do with it. It had always been slightly difficult to see Stan suffer at hands that were not her own. She didn't do anything to have Stan fall ill with leukemia. She couldn't do anything but watch him deteriorate and lose weight and hair quicker than an old man. And it was that realization… that knowing he was so close to death and danger every minute of his life… it was all she could do to place slippers on his feet when he was in too much pain to do so.

I guess me having a serious disease was big enough for you to show you cared. I cannot begin to tell you how truly honestly happy I am about all you have done.

Shelley dabbed at her eye and sniffed, not caring any longer she was showing some emotion over her brother.

It almost makes me not want to die, just so I can experience more of this new bond we have.

Shelley drew in a breath; did he really write that?

Even if I ever reached remission I am sure it would still be there.

Shelley shuddered a shaky breath. "It- it would brother, I think it would."

I really wish my days weren't numbered Shelley. I am really going to miss my 'big sis.'

Shelley felt her mouth twitch. "And I miss my little brother…"

I wish we could have started out better and you didn't hate and hurt me just because I was born. Even though we have had a few good years as bro and sis, they were really good ones. Let's both forget our bad years as we go our separate ways. Let's remember all our secret-tellings. Talking late into the night as I told you things not even Kyle knew. You holding my hand as we rode Mind Eraser at Elitch Gardens. You sticking up for me and all the people you hurt because they picked on me. Playing with Chelsea. Watching Friends. Let's both remember those memories instead. Also, you are now going to have to do double work to make our parents proud. But I believe in you.

Shelley smiled sadly.

I love you so much Shelley. Never lose your hard-ass attitude. It will get you far in life.

The tears fell freely again.

Thanks for being there for me. I'm willing to forget the past if you are. Please don't destroy my things once I pass. I do love my Batman toys.

At this Shelley laughed.

Remember, if you ever feel lost anytime in your life, just look for the 'biggest turd in the sky'. He might be able to give you a nod or two.

Also, you're my sister and I love you!

Love your "innocent" little brother,

Stan

May 8 and 9 2013

At the bottom of the page were a lame sketch of Stan and Shelley and Stan's cat Chelsea. And at the very bottom-

P.S. Try being there for Mom. I think she'll need all the support she can get. And tell her I'll be very happy wherever I go.

Shelley took a good half hour to think about the words she had just read, let her last tears fall, and try to make sense of everything she was feeling. The first thing she couldn't fight was the fact she really did miss her brother. She felt like a part of her needed to hear these words, to know that even through all the shit they had been through he still did love her. But who was she kidding? This was Stan; he had a heart bigger than most boys his age. He never gave up trying to mend their relationship. And now he got what he wanted all along… someone to confined in and look up to and rely on. She only realized just how much she missed her little brother at that point and her heart hurt as memories of their strained sibling-hood flooded her mind. She was horrible. Horrible to him years ago. Now she would want nothing more than to see those big blue eyes of his, looking up at her the way only a little brother could. Shelley felt her mind already make plans to visit his final resting place the next day and apologize to it for all she had done.

Her thoughts were shaken loose suddenly when she heard a voice coming from the stairs.

"Sh-Shelley? Shelley?"

It was her mother. Shelley saw Sharon gripping the banister and looking around with wide eyes. Shelley got to her feet as she wiped her wet eye.

"What are you doing up Mom?"

Sharon looked frightful as she had the past week. "I- I need-my- my baby is"-

Shelley was at her side instantly. "Want to talk Mom?"

Sharon was already crying. "I miss him so much"-

Shelley wrapped her arms around her tightly as she cried too. "I know Mom. I do too. I do too. Let's- let's go back up okay?"

"He- he"-

"Shhh, it's going to be okay. He wouldn't want to see you this way Mom. He's- he's happy where he's at, I promise."

Sharon just sobbed more. Leaving the letter and flat Pepsi on the living room table, Shelley went up with her mother, ready for another sleepless night filled with tears and sheer exhaustion. It was all up to her, everyone's happiness… rested on Shelley's shoulders. Time to take Stan's words to heart and be as strong as she could be for everyone. It was the least she could do for him.

This is one of my personal favorites of the letters. I do hope Shelley didn't appear too out-of-character. She does care in her own way. Again, I hope you as readers don't feel I am milking HTDS for all its worth. I hope you want to see what everyone's final thoughts are as much as ever. Don't forget to leave a review before you leave, thanks.

Lots of love: Rose, December 3, 2011