Our family has always had a pet around, dog or cat, since before I was born. More to the truth -- our family
usually had several dogs and cats, most of which happened to have been strays and rescues. Rescuing
homeless and otherwise unwanted vagabonds from the highways and the byways is a family tradition. This
practice of rescuing unloved waifs was not confined to just me, my sister Susie had her fair share of
rescued animals, but the animal with whom I mostly associate my sister is actually a collection of dogs, each
of which bore the name of "Marwen." Susie always insisted on adopting a shelter dog. If you were to ask
Susie why she preferred a shelter dog she would respond very matter-of-factly with something like: "We
adopted my brother from a shelter, so why not the dog too?"
There is a reason behind Susie's apparently caustic attitude. Actually, Susie was only kidding, but she had
good reason. I am the third in a line of three siblings, the older of which were my sisters, the oldest of
whom I am certain would prefer to remain anonymous, but Susie would not mind my writing a few words
about her. Susie was the middle child and born with Down's Syndrome. Even for that, Susie lived until the
very healthy age of 54. For all the dire prognostications by doctors when Susie was born in 1951, it was
pneumonia that got her in the end on July 2, 2006.
For a mentally handicapped individual Susie was blessed with at least one very unique gift. Even though
she was not easily understood when she spoke, a person had no difficulty understanding her when she
sang. Susie could flat sing. Our father was a minister, and we grew up in church, listening to and singing
all the old-time gospel hymns, and when you grow up like that you cannot help but learn to recite all the old
gospel songs by heart. Susie was no exception to that, but she managed to take it beyond.
Susie's "discovery" came in the summer of 1971 at a summer camp, where she was "allowed" to enter the
talent contest. During her rendition of one of the old gospel favorites, Susie simply blew away the field.
From then on until she got too old to perform Susie was a celebrity. Susie was invited to sing at Bible
conferences and revival meetings across the country, and I have seen Susie sing in front of thousands.
Susie has sung in front of crowds as large as 8,000 or more. Susie's heyday would not last for very long,
however; her health simply would not allow it. During the final 15 years or so of her life Susie was unable to
perform in or even attend church.
For most of her adult life Susie's two closest friends had been a married couple --Marlene and Wendell -- so
it was only natural that she name her dog after them: "Mar-wen." Marwen was Susie's dog for about 20
years or so. Actually, Marwen was three dogs. When Marwen I passed, Susie got another shelter dog and
named it Marwen, which became Marwen II. The last of this line, another shelter dog, was, naturally,
Marwen III. Susie loved her Marwens -- all three of them, and they loved her. A few years ago, Marwen III
passed on, and I buried her in the front yard in front of Susie's bedroom window. And recently Susie finally
passed away after a short illness. The line of Marwen's has ended; there will be no Marwen IV.
Although Susie had Down's Syndrome, she was not stupid. To the contrary, Susie had a very active and
imaginative brain, and one incident that occurred between my sister and me illustrates this truth.
Among the things that Susie enjoyed doing in her brain was "creating" a separate and "make believe"
family. None of the rest of our family knew why she did this, and none of us was offended in any way, but for
some reason Susie loved to think and talk about her "make-believe" family. This imaginary family usually
consisted of friends, who took on the persona of family members, while Susie's real family members
acquired the roles of "friends:" a man who drove the bus would be Susie's father, while our own father
became the insurance salesman; Susie's teacher became her mother, while our own mother became the
lady who checked us out at the grocery store, etc. Even Susie's beloved Marwen would take on a different
persona with each iteration of Susie's make-believe family.
In my younger days I had the habit of picking at Susie -- everyone in the family did. And in her younger days
Susie enjoyed the attention, especially when everyone was laughing. Eventually Susie grew out of that, and
whereas most of our family recognized this and stopped their picking, I required a bit more time to catch on.
There was a span of a few years where I genuinely made Susie's life miserable with my picking. I would
embarrass her so, and I was the cause of much grief for her, but I didn't know any better. Still, it grieves me
to think about it.
Fortunately I did figure it all out, and for the last 20 or so years of Susie's life I was able to make up for my
youthful indiscretions. To my relief, and to Susie's, I finally figured out that I was causing Susie much
emotional distress. It is not necessary for me here to recount the ways I made up to Susie, but I can lay my
head on my pillow at night with the peace that I eventually made up for my careless past.
Nonetheless, I recall often the times in years past when our family would gather around the dinner table,
and Susie would share with us an "update" on her "make believe" family. One evening in particular, before
I had mended my ways, Susie told each in turn what his or her new role was. Susie went around the table
and informed my dad of his new role, then my other sister, and finally my mother. Susie was very careful to
mention a special "new" role for Marwen: Marwen was a stray dog that kept turning over all the neighbors'
garbage cans. Upon relating the new role for Marwen, Susie burst out in uproarous laughter.
On that particular occasion I noticed that Susie had failed to mention to me what my new role was,
whereupon I enquired: "Susie, you forgot me. Who are you making believe that I am?"
I had become Susie's chief nemesis, and even though she meant no personal harm, in her most salient,
sincere, and innocent way Susie responded with: "Oh, I'm just making believe that I don't even know you!"
Upon which the rest of the family broke out in uproarous laughter.
Oh well. I deserved it.
Upon a recent excursion to town, and after running a few errands I drove over to the cemetery where Susie
is buried and had a visit with her. Before I left I knelt beside her headstone, and as I caressed the
engraving on the stone I whispered, "See you in heaven."
The place were Marwen III is buried is very near mine, and on my way home I stopped. I walked over to
Marwren III's burial spot, which is still easy to find because of the large rocks I placed there, and knelt
beside the stones. I thought back on when Marwen had been only a puppy, languishing forgotten in a dog
pound. I thought about how Susie had always insisted on getting a shelter dog, and she would have none
other kind. I laughed whenever I thought about how Susie paid me back for my insensitive, though youthful
indiscretions. Before I left and while caressing the rocks that covered Marwen's grave I whispered, "I'll
see you in heaven, too."
| Susie's favorite Bible verse was Psalms 19:14, and she quoted it often: "Let the words of my mouth, And the meditation of my heart Be acceptable in thy site Oh Lord my strength and my redeemer." |
| The Three Marwens Daniel Taylor |