My Younger Sister Jenny And June

My Younger Sister Jenny And June
PUBLISHED: January 9, 2022 at 1:00 a.m. | UPDATED: January 9, 2022 at 7:14 a.m.

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DEAR ABBY: My mother, who died recently, wasn’t subtle about favoring my younger sister.
My sister, “June,” is grief-stricken and talks about our mother positively — a lot. Our mother was cruel to me at times, and June knows it, but she continues to talk glowingly about her.
I want to say to her, “She may have been an angel to you, but she was a b—- to me my entire life,” but, of course, I don’t. I would just like to forget all about her.
When June does this, I usually remain silent. I want to be supportive, but at the same time, I think my feelings are important and should be respected. What should I do?
If she needs to vent about her sadness and loss, she should do it with other relatives or close friends or join a grief support group as many people do. After that, if she raises the subject again — as she may — shift the topic to something else.
DEAR ABBY: My brother dated an alcoholic for years. Her drinking worsened to the point we could no longer have a conversation with her.
“Jenny” was a sloppy, emotional drunk and lied about her drinking to my brother. He finally became unhappy and recently broke off the relationship.
His adult children, our dad, my husband and I are supporting him and encouraging him toward more healthy relationships. We are proud of him for making this move.
The challenge is our mom, who is a daily drinker. She misses her drinking buddy and continues to hang out with Jenny. My brother has told Mom it makes it harder for him to make a clean break, but she continues to meet regularly with Jenny.
I told Mom I have chosen not to contact Jenny because it hurts my brother. Mom responded that she will continue to see her, and that they don’t talk about my brother (not true), so she can’t understand the problem.
Are we unfair for preferring a clean break for everyone?
DEAR GOING FORWARD: You are not unfair, but this isn’t your decision. It is your brother’s and your mother’s.
Of course she doesn’t want to give up her drinking buddy! You stated that she drinks every day. One of the warning signs of alcoholism is when someone’s drinking disrupts relationships. Your mother’s drinking is now negatively affecting her relationship with her husband, her son and you.
Because it appears she’s unwilling to give up her drinking and gossip sessions with Jenny, it might be helpful for the rest of you to attend some Al-Anon meetings and learn to cope with this. You will find meetings are available online and almost everywhere if you visit al-anon.org/info.
Dear Abby is written by Abigail Van Buren, also known as Jeanne Phillips, and was founded by her mother, Pauline Phillips. Contact Dear Abby at www.DearAbby.com or P.O. Box 69440, Los Angeles, CA 90069.
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PUBLISHED: January 9, 2022 at 1:00 a.m. | UPDATED: January 9, 2022 at 7:14 a.m.

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DEAR ABBY: My mother, who died recently, wasn’t subtle about favoring my younger sister.
My sister, “June,” is grief-stricken and talks about our mother positively — a lot. Our mother was cruel to me at times, and June knows it, but she continues to talk glowingly about her.
I want to say to her, “She may have been an angel to you, but she was a b—- to me my entire life,” but, of cou ...
We invite you to use our commenting platform to engage in insightful conversations about issues in our community. We reserve the right at all times to remove any information or materials that are unlawful, threatening, abusive, libelous, defamatory, obscene, vulgar, pornographic, profane, indecent or otherwise objectionable to us, and to disclose any information necessary to satisfy the law, regulation, or government request. We might permanently block any user who abuses these conditions.
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Experiments I conducted on my little sister: Part I

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I’m the second child in four. The good thing about this fact is that while growing up, siblings #1 and #3 were both suitable playmates for me. If one of them didn’t want to play, I would simply hang out with the other one. Sometimes I had the luxury of choosing between the two of them.
Sometimes, at night, when my little sister and brother were already in bed and my elder sister didn’t want to play with me, I got bored with ways of entertaining myself. So occasionally, I would quietly sneak into their room, while they were still awake. My sister slept in a loft bed. At her feet, there was a big chair. My creative brain had invented the ultimate sport: get to that chair without getting noticed by her. This was a incredibly slow process, because my sister would be able to catch me with every potential noise I would make. If she simply turned her head and glanced over at the floor she would see me. Sometimes I would lie down on the floor for minutes without moving. Sometimes I would only move one limb per minute.
At times my brother, who slept in the same room, would spot me during this process. His bed was at a normal height. I would make him into my accomplice by quietly gesturing him to keep quiet. He always played along.
When I finally reached the big chair after a long and dangerous journey from the door, I would silently climb onto it. Quietly holding my breath, I would slowly change my weight from one foot to the other, until I was standing on the arms of the chair in ducked position.
At this point, my sister would still be completely unsuspecting of what was about to happen. She was usually just staring at the ceiling, minding her own thoughts, probably thinking about rainbows and sheep.
Out of nowhere, I would jump from behind her bed and scream. As you can imagine, this caused quite a reaction. It scared the hell out of her, time and time again.
It ended up with me laughing hysterically, thinking I was the most successful and hilarious super ninja in the world, and her needing to calm down after having a heart attack. In my mind I had the mad skills of a spy, which one day would prove to be useful in my future detective career.
Then I would just hang out for a bit. We would talk about whatever was on our minds until she got tired or I got bored and I would leave again.
You might think she hated this, but in fact, she really loved it.
These dark little visits gave me an idea.
I’ve always had a curious mind. So sometimes, in order to make sense of the world around me and prove certain theories, I would make my little sister into my own personal test subject.
I had heard about a certain theory that had caught my interest. Supposedly, you dream of the things that you hear around you during your sleep. This was a fascinating concept. It would mean, that you could influence what others dream about. That was even more exciting than lucid dreaming. I decided to test if it worked.
So one night, after my younger siblings fell asleep, I sneaked into their room.
I decided that the best way to test my theory, was by whispering one word over and over again in my sister’s ear. The next day, I would ask her what she had dreamt about. It was a fail-safe plan.
Great thought went into what word I would use. I thought about using a boy’s name from her school, but this was too big a risk. She might not want to share that with me the next day. It should be a word that normally wouldn’t necessarily be in her dreams, but would be very recognizable.
I decided to go with ‘washing machine’.
My sister was lying in bed. She was already dozing off, when suddenly she heard someone hissing into her ear. She opened her eyes, bewildered.
At this point she realised that I, for some reason, was 1. awfully close to her and 2. repeatedly whispering ‘washing machine’ (with a hypnotic rhythm and tone for effect) into her ear.
While still in the middle of my experiment, my sister had clearly awakened. This wasn’t really part of the plan, but as she was awake now anyways, I eagerly asked her what she dreamt about, just now. I was desperate to know if my experiment had worked.
Anything in particular, like… perhaps… a washing machine?
I WASN’T SLEEPING. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?
Disappointed with this new piece of information, I decided to confide in her. I told her of my fantastic experiment. She didn’t seem quite as enthusiastic. Clearly, she just wasn’t the kind of person who would recognise the value and beauty of a good science experiment when it is right in front of her.
Oh well. I figured I just needed to try again another time.
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Haha, I love this post! It’s definitely one of my favourites. Everrr. So much fun to read this from your point of view. I’m so going to save this and treasure it. You can illustrate a book: ‘OHANA adventures, crazy monkeys’. Going to be fun… Can’t wait for the rest of the series. ;)
Haha, I’m definitely considering drawing more ;)
Family stories are the best. This is so sweet and silly!
I loved reading this! You should make a children’s book out of this :D
:D Thanks! I have a lot more stories left, so who knows
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She once danced in a marathon that lasted four months, with she and her partner winning second place and splitting the $100 prize after 3,000 hours of dancing.

"Baby" June Havoc was very unhappy over the content of her sister Gypsy Rose Lee 's musical memoir "Gypsy," which became a monstrous hit on Broadway in the 1950s. The estrangement between the two lasted over a decade and only ended when Gypsy told June she was dying of cancer and wanted to make amends.

Was nominated for Broadway's 1964 Tony Award as Best Director (Dramatic) for "Marathon '33."

Mother of April Kent , who died in 1998.

Mother Rose died of colon cancer in 1954. With their mother gone, June and sister Gypsy Rose Lee decided they could write about their lives without risking a lawsuit. Lee's memoirs, entitled "Gypsy", were published in 1957, and later evolved into the smash Broadway musical starring Ethel Merman as Mama Rose.

She was nominated for a 1975 Joseph Jefferson Award for Best Guest Artist for her performance in the play, "Twigs", at the Pheasant Run Theatre in Chicago, Illinois.

She was a Republican but did vote Democrat time and again.

Was an active member of The First Presbyterian Church in Stamford, Connecticut.

She has no grave, upon her death she was cremated and by request her ashes were scattered in the garden of her beloved Connecticut home.

Her father was of Norwegian descent. Her mother had British Isles and German ancestry.

She was one of just three Hollywood Republicans, the others being Richard Conte and Paul Henreid, to fight the blacklist.

She was estranged from her sister, Gypsy Rose, for many years but the two reconciled before Gypsy Rose's death, in 1970, from lung cancer.

In 1986, Havoc wrote to The Los Angeles Times' obituary editor, listing some of her accomplishments. "Please take this information into your obituary files (for your eventual use)," she wrote. "These are the facts on this life and I'm a stickler for facts." In the letter, Havoc noted that she had guest starred on "The Paper Chase" and appeared with the Village People in "Can't Stop the Music" (1980). Among other highlights, she included: a Tony Award nomination for best director for her 1963 staging of "Marathon '33" - a play she wrote based on her novel "Early Havoc" - and her 1978 restoration of Cannon Crossing, a pre-Civil War village and business enclave in Wilton, Conn. She made no mention of her burlesque-star sister, her three marriages or her daughter, April Hyde, who did some acting as April Kent.

"And I hadn't a clue what I was doing," June Havoc said in a 1980 interview with the Los Angeles Times. "When the registrar for my wedding certificate application - without looking up, asked me, 'Do you have VD?' I answered brightly: 'Of course!' ".

June Havoc (1912-2010, age 97) began working professionally at the age of 2. By the time "Baby June" was 4, she already had made numerous film appearances. By 1919, at age 7, she was earning $1,500 a week as a top child star on the vaudeville circuit.

June was only the second woman to receive a nomination for the Tony Award for Best Direction of a Play. Her nomination came in 1964 for "Marathon'33". She received her nod three years after Joan Littlewood broke through with her nomination for "The Hostage".

I admire education so much. Intelligence, erudition. But this is just where I want to be. I have respect for skill, for craft, the way the vaudevillians did. I adored Liberace . He and my sister drew attention to themselves with sequins and rhinestones, which I love in the right role. But it is a very small club, the people I want to be associated with. The life I want is not special in any sense of the word. The approval I've worked for is in very small print. I drive a Honda, I don't wear jewelry. I guess, in that way, I'm like my mother.

I wish my sister [ Gypsy Rose Lee ] hadn't died at an early age. That she could have had the exquisite joy of growing old. It's just not fair to be cheated out of that.

Everybody died. My sister, my mother, my husband. Almost all at the same time. I have no family nearby, I don't have anyone, I guess, to depend on. It turns out I've always been the one. People think you're so self-sufficient if you're good at what you do. It gets you the title of a strong woman and being one can be many things. It attracts people who need strength. I'm not against that. Everything good feeds back.

I wasn't the beauty mother dreamed of. When I finally left, I said, "Look at me, Mom. I'm not dainty. I'm not a baby. It's all gone. Where do I go now? Because I am a gawky 12-year-old with no education. I'm not cute". The numbers I had learned to do weren't the style of the day. Let vaudeville die. I didn't want to die with it. But she was convinced vaudeville would come back. And I said, "I know I'm only 12 years old, but there is something out there better than this".

I was never in an amateur contest in my life, like the opening scene in Gypsy (1962). That hurt me so.

My sister was beautiful and clever - and ruthless. My mother was endearing and adorable - and lethal. They were the same person. I was the fool of the family. The one who thought I really was loved for me, for myself.

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