Angela Marie Hughes Pope

April 6, 1965-December 5, 2010

Today, my younger sister, Angie, would have celebrated her 50^th birthday! Although six years my junior, through the years, we became the absolute, best of friends. In her honor and memory, I’d like to tell you about her.

Angie was born in Nashville, Illinois, delivered by Dr. Lesko, who happened to be a former classmate of my mother’s at Carlinville High School. After delivery, my mother asked Dr. Lesko if she should name the baby, Angela Marie or Amy Colleen. Dr. Lesko reportedly said, “Oh, name her Angela Marie, that’s a beautiful name. “ So my mother did, without any input from my father, who was likely pacing back and forth in a waiting room smoking cigars.

In pictures, Angie looks to be a sweet baby. However, outside of photos showing me with Angie, I have no memories whatsoever of interacting with her as a young child! I remember telling friends in college that I “hated” her until I was 14. In retrospect, I can only attribute my attitude toward her as jealousy, as her birth usurped my position as the youngest girl in the family. My older sister, Mary, and I were steadfast companions, and Angie and our brother, Bill, three years my junior, became thick as thieves. No doubt I was caught up in my own world and felt no need to engage with a bothersome younger sister. Our eldest sister, Judy, almost 14 when Angie was born, became her second mother.

Angie always adored cats. She loved relating the story of how after long, hard mornings in kindergarten, she would come home from school and settle down for a nap. Our dad, who normally had a “no animals in the house” rule, would go outside, locate a kitten, bring it in the house and place it on the pillow next to Angie – a sweet show of affection for his youngest daughter. With numerous barn cats on the farm, kittens were abundant. Our dad called Angie a “cat mutter”- a concocted English/German phrase meaning, cat mother. She had cats all her life. And a few dogs, too.

Angie was intelligent and inquisitive. She loved reading and excelled at writing. She loved to cook, the only one of four daughters interested in learning how to duplicate the delicious meals our mother created. Angie had a delightful sense of humor and was very pretty. She prided herself in claiming she was our mom’s favorite, and in our dad saying she was the prettiest of the girls. She was right.

Angie’s kindness, friendliness, and humor were defining traits. She radiated warmth and compassion, and people were drawn to her. Angie’s many friends can attest to her sincere and authentic caring and concern for others. She always said the sight of babies and handsome men made her eyes water – no doubt overcome by love – and maybe lust.

Angie’s sense of humor was a source of overwhelming joy. She imitated accents perfectly, and was zany, quick-witted and clever, as well as bawdy, irreverent, and unfiltered at times. She could be absolutely hilarious, and the laughter she inspired was transformative. In cards and emails, her humor and writing skills combined brilliantly, eliciting chortles, peals of laughter, and happy tears.

Angie was a loving and understanding mother to her son, Alex, and a loving and thoughtful aunt to her nieces and nephews. Angie always wanted to be a mother, and in addition to her “cat mutter” duties, she took on the role of “little mother,” at age five, following the birth of our brother, Patrick.

Angie and her husband, Ryan, had a truly happy, loving, and fulfilling marriage. She adored Ryan’s grandchildren, and considered them her own, showering them with love and attention.

Fortunately for me, my relationship with Angie greatly improved and deepened as we matured, and I made up for the indifference I displayed as a child. As life handed us one soul-crushing loss after another – our father, our mother, our grandmother, our sister Mary, our sister Judy, – the ties that bind strengthened and pulled taut, drawing us ever closer. We stabilized and supported each other, finding ways to laugh and experience joy, even in our sorrow.

After Judy’s death, Angie and I called each other every day. Many times after running errands, I’d come home to the find the blinking red light on my answering machine signaling a missed call – more often than not, from Angie. I was always eager to return her call and exchange the details of the day. Even after Angie died, upon walking in the door, my first thought was to check the answering machine to see  if she called. I finally stopped checking a few months ago – four years after her death.

While spring-cleaning my emails, I ran across this exchange with Angie in January of 2008, not long after Judy had been diagnosed with cancer. Having lost our sister, Mary, eight years earlier, we were determined to keep in contact as frequently as possible. Although I don’t have a record of Judy’s response, Angie’s original email, and my response, speaks to the depth of the relationship we all shared.

—–Original Message—–

From: Angie Pope

To: edlisasl@xxxxxx; JudDmbrsk@xxxxxx

Sent: Fri, 25 Jan 2008 10:26 am

Subject: To the sisters

Good morning ladies, hope all is well with you and yours. I was just thinking about both of you this morning and thinking how lucky I am to have such wonderful sisters. No, I am NOT drunk, high or delusional! So many people don’t get along with their siblings and I’m just so glad I have you two. Who would I bitch to about my dysfunctional family? Who would give me advise (whether I take it or not?) and who else would I talk to on the phone several times a week??? HA!

Any who, love you both and hope you have a great weekend.

Tomorrow we’re making Kentucky Hot Browns. Look it up on food network. Yum!

I need to actually do some work now. Talk to you later.

Angie Hughes Pope

Office Manager

To: Angie@xxxxxx JudDmbrsk@xxxxxx

Re: To the sisters

Sent: Fri, 25 January 2008 11:54 AM

Ahhhh, how sweet, it makes me cry. Well, not really, but it seemed like the right thing to say. Yes, I agree, we are very lucky, blessed, chosen – whateva – to have mutually loving, sincere, and happy relationships with one another. I think our mother is responsible for that – don’t you? I really did like her a lot – as well as loved her a bunch.

So, that means you two girls have to QUIT smoking, as I have thought to myself, “What would I ever do if I lost another sister?” I would be devastated. So quit already! How is that for advice, although I will advise you if you wish – about life, men, jewelry, etc.

Have a great weekend. I try to remind myself every day, that each day is the life I keep thinking I’m going to be living in the future…meaning today is the day to be happy, and to enjoy, and to be grateful for, and to know that if nothing ever changed in my life, today would be a perfect example of a life well lived.

Love and kisses,

Lisabeth

When I think of Angie, I think of her essence – her core, the loving energy that radiated from her. As with a bulb emanating light, it is the light one delights in, not the bulb. It is that love, that essence; I look forward to connecting with again when I transition beyond this life. I wait to be absorbed into the universe and rejoined with the love and laughter of those who enriched my world.