We Were Soldiers Once... and Blonde

Lori and I grew up fighting. She always won. It wasn’t so much that she beat me, she stayed steady and let me beat myself trying so hard.

Such is the life of the younger sister.

Until I got old enough to find a few ways to outwit her – mostly by playing hurt until I could gain an advantage. I think one of the reasons I love ‘words’ so much is how I learned to wield their power in a fight. It’s a double-edged sword. I know.

By the time we were young woman, Lori and I both found ourselves slightly adrift. Far from home and from the college-life (for her) and hairstylest-life (for me) that seemed like a good idea when we had started them.  Somehow across the miles, we always stayed connected. We became ‘Sun-In’ blondes about the same age; found cruddy boyfriends we wanted to get away from; and generally spent all the money allotted to us from our grandparents. Now what?

It was the mid-80’s and President Reagan was sinking money back into the military. We both heeded the call: “Be all that you can be… in the Army.” Picture Private Benjamin times two! While neither of us stayed in the service, we both found husbands in the Army. We both wound up right back in northern Virginia. We both started our families within nine months of each other.

We stayed on the same track in so many ways. Most importantly, we both became Christians far from home and far from each other, but in the same year. The uncanny similarities meant I never felt alone. I always had someone I could call. Someone I could share triumphs and disappointments with. Someone who kept me on my toes because she knew my strengths and my weaknesses.

As moms and young wives, we had someone to bounce problems off of; someone who helped you see your struggles for what they were – problems to solve, pray over and persevere - not let them define you. And as the kids grew and found problems of their own, again we had someone to help us keep it in perspective. We were teenagers once, and stupid.

Lori would often say: “I don’t know how people who don’t’ have the Lord handle their trials.” And I would nod an “amen!” It’s not that we were always in sync, in many ways we weren’t. But losing my ‘big’ sister earlier this month is not like anything I can explain. For those who read this blog, you know this has been coming for years. After too many inconsistences in her personality and hygiene, she was given an MRI. The diagnosis was aggressive Fronto-temporal Dementia, a non-treatable aggressive form of the brain disease.

The only upside was that she stayed pleasant through it all. Acceptance or peace moved in where care and concern had once ruled.

I looked at her that last week, a mere shell of my big, strong, capable sister, and asked her how she stayed so pleasant. She didn’t answer me with words; she was mute (aphasia). Her faraway gaze moved over my face and then she focused. Briefly. Once side of her mouth could still move; she looked at me and smiled.

“Is the secret to being pleasant not saying anything, Lori?”

She nodded, ever so slightly.

We locked eyes. How many times have I needed advice from my older sister? How many times have we mulled over the issues of life?

She left this world just days later, but she will never leave my hushed heart.

"Sleep in Heavenly Peace" Lori Lee Roy

11/9/1961 - 12/7/2025