I first met my little sister Sue on a bright pretty September day in Centrahoma. The day was perfect and pretty. My mom surprised me that morning when she told me to go play with my best friend Letha Mae who lived just down the street. I thought it a sort of strange but happy day for me and then, after we had spent the day just playing, her mom told me something strange: “You can go home now and meet your new sister!” I knew of no sister but being four, I was used to strange events.

I went home and my mom was in her bed. She told me to come over and look. I did. I was surprised to see this live baby girl in bed with mom. The concept of a new sister was slow to develop in my mind. I still have in my mind the clear image of my new sister Sue. She was a perfect looking beautiful little babe. And very pretty. I had never seen a baby that young and that pretty. I soon learned she would be living with us. All the time. That was another concept to get used to. And we soon got used to her. I think mom feared Gerald and I would kill her by playing like “boys” with her. But Sue enjoyed every minute of our horse play. Well, there were some exceptions.

Sue grew up quickly and in our grocery store there in Centrahoma she occupied a special place with us and with our customers. She was, as I said earlier, very pretty and very popular with the adults and especially the salesmen that called. She made no bones about making sure of her wishes for Christmas as soon as she was aware of the gift aspects of the holiday. And it was no surprise to Sue when most of the peddlers in Centrahoma made sure she got a little gift of some sort that first Christmas or two. As soon as Sue noted that I could dip up a good ice cream cone she made sure I knew of her constant need for Steffen’s Vanilla Ice Cream. And I was an easy mark. She loved the ice creams of that era.

After we moved to Stonewall in 1944 Sue started first grade — and with a girl named Pat. She and Pat become lifelong friends. After I married Pat in 1958 I found that Sue may have liked Pat more than she did me. At least, I accused her of that. But in due time all my siblings (and me) grew up, all five of us. Each of us different, yet alike in many ways. Gerald eventually drifted into the oil and energy business and I went on into the military and later to the University of Oklahoma. Sue married, went to work for social security and raised a family. When I was in the service mom mailed me a newspaper clipping. Sue, a pretty good basketball player, had scored something of a record 43 points one night on the floor. I missed most of her games during that era being overseas in the Navy. But just like in her high school basketball, Sue was a success in life and a successful investor with her money.

Sue grew into a real lady. Somehow, she knew exactly how to set a table — correctly. She knew how to decorate a home and select proper clothing to wear. She always knew what kind of car to buy and wanted to make sure she wasted no time being broke down by the side of a road. Plus there was this important note: All of us were raised as good Baptists. We knew what was right and what was wrong and were raised to know about Jesus and come to know him as our personal savior. Sue lived a good life, a life many would like to emulate. She was a distinctive special and pretty lady, loved and admired by her family and friends. But time passes and so do our lives. Sue’s health failed a few years ago and she never quite got back to being well. She finally gave up the home she so loved in Ardmore and moved to assisted living in Oklahoma City.

We buried Sue in Ardmore on Saturday next to my little sister Linda Kay. Last year my brother Gerald had passed away and now of the five kids Dora and Cecil birthed, there is just Jim and me. But thanks to our hopes and trust in Jesus, we will all be gathered together, once more in a place we call heaven.

Have a good week and be sure and go to church this week.

Wayne Bullard, DPh

cwaynebullard@gmail.com