The Carpenters

The Carpenters were the soundtrack to most of my life. “We’ve Only Just Begun” and “Superstar,” I distinctly remember swinging on the swing in my backyard humming, “Top of the World”.

Christmas was filled with a few different albums, but none left the impression that “A Christmas Portrait” did. The Christmas Waltz is still one of my favorite Christmas carols.

A lot of things changed in September of 1984. Karen Carpenter had been gone for over a year and a half. But, I was only 8 and had no idea what death meant. Until September 23, 1984, that is. I’m pretty sure I have the exact date right, but if it was the 22 or the 24th, the end result is all the same. My perception of life and death, reality and whatever else changed irreversibly in September of 1984.

For years I have tried to explain the relationship between my grandmother and I. Kindred spirits? Co-conspirators? It all means the same, I suppose.

In September 1984, my grandmother, my best friend, died at the age of 57 from a heart attack. I distinctly remember the conversation between my mother, father, sister and I, when they told us on the green grass outside Mercy Hospital. Gone.

It was sudden. Unexpected, which in some ways makes it all the more unbearable even over 20 years later. A ghost, a dream, perhaps the wisp of a memory.

In January 1985, our first Christmas without my Nana was over. It was horrible, a “happy” holiday that seemed to provide a small, pathetic excuse of a band-aid over a gaping wound that could not and would not heal.

I remember distinctly sitting in the living room of my childhood home, I was listening to The Carpenters and reading the album (yes, records, LPs) covers. Until I got to one. Karen was pictured in a white sweatshirt, her big brown eyes staring out of the cover. This was the year I discovered that there was more information on the back and inside of a record cover.

That was the day I found out that Karen Carpenter was dead. My idol, my musical solace, my voice the one measure of comfort in an otherwise very dark Christmas was gone.

Sure, she had been gone for a year, but up until that point in my life, death had never been a topic of conversation. And, here I was facing it for the second time in 6 months. It was devastating and horrific. It was also the very moment I came to realize that all fairy tales do not have happy endings. Sometimes, the dragon gets the good Knight.

And, sometimes, no one comes to rescue the Princess. Not ever.