A Love Letter to My Sister

I have been really struggling with what to get Kira for her birthday.  I have asked and hinted and prodded and the only response I seem to get is something along the lines of “Nothing…. make a donation to charity in my name.” I know she means it however I would really like to get her something nice, unique, special, one of a kind and beautiful because she is nice, unique, special, one of a kind and beautiful.

Historically I have given my sister some pretty awesome gifts.  Watches from Switzerland, jewelry from Tiffany, a tempur-pedic mattress, framed photos of the dogs, a Kate Spade purse, etc. Last year I gave her the greatest gift of all…I skipped Magnaball for her birthday party.  Granted it was her 40^th, the entire family was in town and she threw a dope roller-skating party. However what gift would be better than to show her I loved her more than Phish by missing Magnball for her birthday?  I obviously love her more than Phish – if you read this letter you will see just how much.  That said since I didn’t know if that would truly fly as a gift (despite my pitching it as such), I also gave her a rhodonite stone heart necklace.

Despite this successful gift giving track record, I have always known she is extremely difficult to buy gifts for – what do you give the woman that has everything? I did try to get her first crush, Dean Cain, but he was surprisingly unavailable. Her birthday is quickly approaching so I am going to do something a little different this year.  I am going to write her a love letter and share it with the world (and by world I mean post it on this blog so excluding family members 12 people will read it). Perhaps this is weird to some.  Perhaps this is me grasping at straws. Perhaps this is me getting out of a monetary gift. Perhaps this is me desperately searching for a gift for my sister. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps… regardless it is most definitely from the heart. 

So without further ado, here it is.  

Dear Kira, 

I love you so much. You are the most important person in the world to me. You have been since I first met you 41 years ago today. Let’s travel back in time (at least to the best of my abilities because you know what a terrible memory I have) as I reflect on this amazing, awesome, beautiful and special journey we have taken together. 

I was one year old, happy and healthy and kicking it hard (as hard a one year old kicks it anyway) in Albuquerque. Mom and Dad had an awesome birthday party for me, likely had a little smoke and drink and retired to their bedroom to consummate their love. It was on that day, the day of my first birthday… that you were conceived. We often have the argument about why they decided to procreate another kid: I maintain that they couldn’t believe how amazing and incredible a child I was and should make another; You will always counter that they couldn’t believe how bad they fucked up the first time and better try again.  Either way it was the most important event in my life, although I didn’t know it and definitely didn’t appreciate it at the time.

Mom and Dad dropped me off at the neighbor’s house and went to the hospital. You were born on August 20, 1975. You weighed 5 lbs and 15 ozs and were 19 inches long. While I don’t know anything about Mom’s labor, I can only assume based on your character that it was pretty smooth, you came out with a smile and probably tried to help the doctor and nurse deliver you. I imagine a young Kira coming out with a big smile but full of purpose. Let’s get the show on the road. 

Named Kira Elizabeth Mollemet Finkenberg, your birth announcement said “One long name...One little girl.”  What a beautiful moment for everyone – except for me. Mom and Dad brought you home and I was so freaked out that I refused to go to Betty and Jesse’s house for 2 years in fear that they would bring home another child.  Young Joshua did not like sharing the spotlight with you, or really, anyone! Come to think of it, old Joshua doesn’t like it so much either.

I really don’t remember much of the first 5 or 6 years we were together.  I have seen pictures of us playing, smiling, happy. I didn’t like clothes, you were quite possibly the cutest kid ever.  Things were probably pretty good, these are important years in one’s development and we turned out pretty awesome. Mom was teaching special education, Dad was comfortable at GE until he got fired (professionally one of the best thing that ever happened to him). We had pets, friends, family friends, a small but awesome family and a really happy life.

That momentarily changed as Mom and Dad stopped loving each other, started to not like each other and eventually for a time hated each other. I have vague memories of Mom and Dad fighting / not getting along / growing apart from each other.  I was too young to know what it was about then and probably still not smart enough to understand what it was about now, however people grow and change and aren’t always on the same page. If I really tried to analyze it I think Dad was moving away from his hippie roots to focus on his business and being a provider while Mom remained a hippie and care taker of everyone, except for herself.  

Anyway as fights (never physical, only verbal) became more frequent, the energy in the house was challenging, to say the least.  Whenever that happened we always had each other to lean on. Mom and Dad weren’t getting along but you were always there for me and I was always there for you. It would have been so much harder if we didn’t have each other.  Mom and Dad would be arguing but we would be together. We would go in the living room or hang in a bedroom until the dust settled. (Speaking of bedrooms, I remember our bedrooms on Big Bend that had those awesome giant murals. Mine was standing on the moon looking at the earth while yours was some pink grassy fields with rainbows and unicorns or something very girly.)

Mom and Dad decided to separate and eventually divorce. Not to sound like an old man (and weird to say old man when Pops is presumably reading this), but times were different. People didn’t get divorced as much then and the system was concerned about how it would impact us.  We had to go to counseling with all the other kids of divorced parents from John Baker, but there was hardly anyone else in the room. It was awkward and weird but once again we had each other. 

It is a strange thing to say but in our case I believe it to be true: Our parent’s divorce was one of the best things that could have happened. The energy from fighting each other was redirected towards us as love. Mom and Dad never made us choose between them, they always loved us, provided for us and lived in the same city. We shuffled back and forth between Mom's and Dad’s house – Mom on the weeks, Dad on the weekends during the school year and the opposite during the summer.  The skills we gained packing 4 times a week became pretty crucial as we both have been fortunate to spend lots of time travelling all over the world…I am so excited for the trips you have coming up in the next year!

The early years after Mom and Dad’s divorce were a pretty funky time.  Both were trying to figure out their way as a single parent. Pops was “cooking” frozen Salisbury steak, raising us, growing a business and dating age inappropriate women.  Mom was focused on the students in her classroom and raising us.  We cruised along in this paradigm for a few years, trying to be on our best behavior, trying to start to figure our life and in the process of growing up from really young kids to older children.  I loved Kiss, sports and Star Wars; you loved Barbie, dancing and softball. This was probably one of our more challenging times because while we were together and had each other, sometimes we took our anger and feelings and emotions out on the other.  That said even when looking back on that time it makes sense because even then we had each other to let whatever emotions needed to be let out.

We got a little bit older and settled into what was, for us, a normal routine.  Shuffling back and forth between homes, going to school, working for pops, playing little league or soccer or dancing in Stars. Both parents would always attend all of our games, sporting events, dancing competitions... They would sit on opposite sides of the field but they were always there.  Mom was even the chief umpire at Road Runner little league! I miss her so much and see so much of her in both of us, but more on this later. 

Some other random memories from our childhood before jumping ahead a few years: 

• I will always remember you playing “tickets” with the dead stock from pops.
• Pops let us pick out the colors for our room and you went with the most glaring and ridiculous purple imaginable.
• You knocked my tooth out once – that’s pretty tough.
• Somebody threw a rock knocking out a window and we got blamed – nobody believed it wasn’t us and we stuck together the whole time.
• You can call me Ray, or you can call me Jay, but you doesn’t have to call me JOHNSON.
• The 28 pound cat Studley. And a cat black as Midnight.
• I was an awkward fat kid but you were such a bad ass little girl. Always cute, awesome ponytails (except for the awful wedding hair cut), smart as a whip, didn’t take shit from people (some things don’t change), an amazing dancer and softball player.
• I tried to play an April Fools joke on you with the egg.  That did not go over well.
• Speaking of eggs, remember when I forgot where I hid all the Easter Eggs and we couldn’t find one until it started to reek the entire house? Why the fuck where we celebrating Easter anyway? We are Jewish!

Speaking of being Jewish, growing up in New Mexico was quite the challenge.  Yes our parents were Jewish, but we weren’t raised in a religious environment, we never went to temple and neither of us had a bar/bat mitzvah. We weren’t raised around or with many other Jews – in fact I think in our high school of approximately 1,500 students there were maybe 10.  We got a lot of shit for being Jewish, even though we didn’t really know what it meant to be Jewish. I got into fights, we were called names, we had pennies thrown at us – kids can be cruel AF. However once again we had each other during those times.  I always knew there was at least one other Member of the Tribe around.

We also had Mom.  It was so awesome and special that despite us being basically the only Jewish kids in the school and not very religious she would come in and teach the stories of Judaism to our classmates.  What a stubborn and strong woman.  We might not have been super religious Jews but if they were teaching the story of Christmas, God dammit (pun intended) Mom was going to make sure that our classmates knew the story of Chanukah.  

As we have gotten older (I would say matured but I don’t know that I qualify) it has been remarkable watching you embrace Judaism.  I can’t even count the number of Jewish Boards and organizations you are heavily involved with. It made me really proud to learn just how important and what a huge honor the involvement is with a few of them.  You are improving the world around us, working hard and contributing so much to society.  I think part of this is to connect with Mom and our childhood, but a large part of this is you being such a caring and giving person – just like Mom.

As we started to grow up and age, Mom and Dad also learned and grew.  Dad dated some awesome women, who while still not quite age appropriate loved and cared about both him and us and were positive influences in our life. Eventually Pops married an incredible, special and wonderful woman – Cindy aka Step Mommy Dearest. He taught himself how to cook: I will never forget the night he cooked his go-to dish (shrimp scampi and eggplant parmesan), we all talked about how amazing it was and then he proudly proclaimed: “Having proven that I can cook, I don't need to, nor will, I ever cook again.” From them on we proceeded to eat out and Pops, true to his word, never cooked for us again.  His business was booming and we worked for him in the office answering phones, dealing with customers, taking credit card orders or selling tickets at the box office.  Sometimes Dad could be an asshole, part of being the boss, part of his tough Brooklyn roots, but again we were in it together. We could roll our eyes at each other or make jokes or take a walk or confide in each other.  The theme of leaning on each other, being there for each other, being strong for each other was critical during those years in our life and frankly hasn’t waned. You are always there for me whenever I need you and I am, and always will be, there for you. 

Mom was focused on her students, her adopted kids, her foster kids and most especially us, doing everything possible to enhance our lives.  Sometimes she was too easy of a pushover, way too accommodating to two young punks but all she ever wanted was for us to be happy.  She would do almost anything to make us happy, including putting her own happiness on the back burner.  One of the things we learned from Mom is that sometimes it is ok to be selfish - because she wasn't.

In hindsight it is amazing to look back and think about how lucky we were to have such different homes.  Pops was making bank, taking us on awesome vacations, driving fancy cars, eating at all the great restaurants (well as “great” a restaurant could be in that time at New Mexico).  Mom was teaching, wasn’t making any money, always seemed to be broke and struggling to pay her bills. They both loved and cared for us deeply but in such different ways – Mom showered us with love, affection and encouragement. In Mom’s eyes we never could do wrong. Pops loved us deeply but I would describe it more as a tough love and an expectation that we could always do better.  It has been interesting to watch Dad mellow, sit back and appreciate and love us differently as adults.

Like any teenager I was an asshole to my little sister and we obviously fought and argued a lot. However I truly don’t remember any real major fight between us outside of your visit to Atlanta in college (my bad).  While I know they happened I can’t remember them.  This is just as much probably a function of my horrible memory (did I mention that already – I can't remember) but also a function of the lack of any real major fights or disagreements. We also have an ability to quickly get past any fight and remember how much we love each other.  I never really thought of this until now, however one of the things that makes our relationship so strong is our ability to quickly look beyond whatever silly disagreement we are having and move forward.  Something about the past being in the past and you can't change it so might as well forget about it.  Thank you for your ability to keep it real, calling me on my bullshit but also being able to forgive and forget when I am being an asshole.  It happened a lot more back in the day but it still happens from time to time. 

So I was the badass older brother, everything was groovy and then at about twelve we learned we had an older half-sister Jenny.  This was a difficult shock to the system for me.  I wasn’t the oldest? I wasn’t the biggest?  There was one more sibling? What in the fuck??? I did not handle the news well.  Brother was not a happy camper. However once again you helped me get through it, you were mature and led the charge in welcoming Jenny and subsequently all of the Greenberg’s into our world.  Your ability to see beyond the petty stuff, know what’s important and focus on the positives of a growing family has enhanced all of our lives.  To this day in many ways you are still the leader of the family – making sure everyone gets together, breaks bread, shares stories and most of all love.  When we are sitting around the table for a graduation or at Taste or Thanksgiving or Rosh Hashanah or something I kind of look around in amazement that we are such a beautiful, highly functioning dysfunctional family. And then I realize this is mostly because of your determination, desire and natural inclination to include vs. exclude and strong sense of family within you.

I can’t believe that we aren’t out of high school yet.  I need to pick it up a bit.  The good news is that by now you are probably the only one reading this (and that includes family).  So let’s jump to college… I go off to Atlanta, you come out to San Diego.

Pops made us work from the time we were seven years old, instilling an amazing work ethic in both of us… err well at least in you. We both had the same deal with him: One semester was on the house so we could adjust to college. After that he would pay for tuition and books but we were responsible for everything else. We both had excellent experience and Pops had the contacts so we were both able to get pretty awesome jobs in the music business.  I rebelled against this when I graduated and jumped into finance but you have been in the music business most of your life.  You are turning 41 and yet have over 34 years of experience! 

It has been beyond special to watch your career grow from the early days of Bill Silva Presents all the way through the last 14 years of owning The Kira Co. There is probably a better way to express this but the word that comes to mind when thinking about you and your career is astounding. I am so proud of all that you have done professionally. Your nickname of the Jedi is well earned.  You truly can wave your hand and make pretty much anything happen.  It is beyond words the gratitude and appreciation I have for everything that you have done for me, my friends, our family, our extended family, etc.  It really is so fucking cool how baller you are. There pretty much isn’t a person in our extended circle and beyond that you haven’t hooked up.  The bank of favors that you have built up is ridiculous.  Jedi – you seriously kick ass and take names.  I am so proud of your career.

From 1992 through 2000 I was in Atlanta and Nashville; this was the only time in our lives that we didn’t in the same city.  In fact it’s the only time in our life we have lived more than 3 miles apart. Those were formative years for me, some of the strongest bonds in my life were formed during that time and part of that was because I wasn’t living close to my best friend and little sister. While it was important for us to go on and find our ways without each other, something was missing and I think that’s why I eventually decided to move back to San Diego.

I had visited you in San Diego quite a few times prior to visiting you for the World Series in October 1998.  It was during that visit that I decided to move to San Diego.  When asked what brought me to San Diego I always cite the weather, the beautiful women, the quality of the weed, the laid back vibe, the ocean…but the main reason I moved here was to be closer to you.  It was time to get the gang (of two) back together.

I found a job, packed my stuff and moved out on July 4, 2000. You had just closed on your home purchase and I was going to live with you for a few months until I figured out where I wanted to live in San Diego.  As you know those few months turned into almost 10 years. 

I would actually like to take a moment here and apologize for living in your house for that long. It was so easy and comfortable being roommates: no drama, so much trust and love, a beautiful home, I ate all of your food (still do) and you are easy to live with. You truly are a great roommate.  While these are all great things, I also feel like the comfort and ease stunted both of our abilities to thrive in lover relationships.  Many of the emotional and mental holes that are traditionally filled by a partner we didn’t need because we had each other. If I could grant one wish for you on your birthday it would be for you to find love and happiness with a partner, so I harbor a little bit of guilt for potentially stunting that area of your growth. 

With that said, I don’t really have any regrets and looking backwards doesn’t change anything. Also I don’t know that it would have been different had I lived somewhere else because we have always been so close, but you never know. Regardless, it was pretty awesome living with you and, no offense to my other incredible roommates, you were the best roommate I ever had.

One of the coolest things that happened to us when we were roommies was Jake Dog entering our lives, followed a few years later by Jackson.  Jake Dog and Jackson constitute one of the best parts of our life. They are such awesome dogs. Smart, caring, funny, understanding….really cool 4 legged members of the family. 

Owning a dog is a lot of work.  It wouldn’t be possible for either of us to live the ridiculous lives we live without having the amazing dog share program we have. It is pretty amazing that we both travel the world for weeks or months at a time and can maintain one of the best homes possible for Jake Dog and Jackson. Eight years in and neither Jake Dog nor Jackson has ever had to stay in a boarding kennel. We have some awesome friends that pitch in (you know who you are - thank you!) but for the most part we have it covered. Thank you for taking care of the boys when I am travelling and being such an incredible doggy Mom.  Kind, caring, understanding, nurturing. There is a reason that Jake Dog and Jackson love you the most.

We have created so many amazing memories since I moved to San Diego.  Front row seats to countless concerts, crazy trips to Vegas, running amok at the Hollywood Bowl, taking the boys to the beach, sick box seats for playoff games, section gluttony for the Padres, NBA finals game 7, countless World Series games, the World Cup Final in South Africa, being in Brazil for Carnival, behind home plate for the MLB all star game, the Super Bowl, charity events from the ocean to massive spreads in Rancho Santa Fe, hanging on yachts, your annual latkes and vodkas party, birthdays, softball, bowling, etc. The list goes on and on. I am almost overwhelmed thinking about all of the amazing things we have done while I have lived in San Diego.  We seriously dominate. Well you dominate, I am just lucky enough to be along for the ride. The JEDI!!! Seriously it is ridiculous.

And of course Taste at the Cove. Every year you put on this amazing event raising hundreds of thousands of dollars in one night for the San Diego Medicine Foundation.  It also happens to be the best party of the year! Half pipes and motorcycle jumps in the middle of La Jolla Cove! Half naked runway models, top shelf booze, delicious food from the best restaurants in San Diego, the A list San Diego crowd!  You are an absolute rock star. I know this because I see the amount of work and time you put into Taste just so you can give back even more to the community.  Your spirit and generosity is unparalleled.  While you like to say that I party enough for the both of us, you give back enough for not only us but all of the Finkenbergs!

Anyway, the last 16 years of my life in San Diego have been so incredible and special. I have had a beautiful run. I consider myself the luckiest guy in the world. My life is so fucking awesome, truly.  And the most important person in that life and one of the main reasons that it has been that way is because of you, my sister, my best friend, the Jedi.  So thank you for everything you have done to make my time in Sandy Eggo just exactly perfect.

And now the hard part….

Who we are, what we are about, the people that we have become... while that is all a result of the entire “village” that raised us, it still is mostly because of Mom and Dad.  I believe in my heart that we have/had the best parents in the world.

Dad gave us so much strength, business savvy, core intelligence and a street smart Brooklyn Jew toughness. He gave us the opportunity to excel, opened the doors and provided us a skill-set that we were able to apply in the real world and truly succeed. To me the measure of success is not in wealth or material items but ultimately in happiness and we are HAPPY!

Pops is the coolest guy in the world, my hero and role model.  And tomorrow you will get a call from him that will start (probably verbatim) “Yo Fox! Happy Birthday!” And he will tell you how amazing you are (because you are) and how proud he is of you (because he is).

But you wont be getting a call from Mom, nor will you be sending her sunflowers.  And you haven’t now for 10 years. I know how much that hurts. It is why I like to be alone on my birthday and why that is such a difficult day for me. 

While I know how special and awesome today is for you, as much as anyone I also know how hard a day this is.  I can’t count the number of times I have cried thinking about Mom while writing this letter. Shit I am crying right now.  Since Mom can’t say it let me try....

Mom would tell you how much she loves you.  She would wish you a happy birthday. She would thank you for the sunflowers.  She would ask all the questions about your life and gossip about Facebook posts. I wish Mom was around for Facebook – she would’ve loved it so much. Shit she was an early adopter on AOL. She would ask what is going on in your life and give you the kind of guidance in a way that only Mom could. She would ask about me and Jake and Jackson. Mom would want to know everything!  Then she would tell you how proud of you she is, how amazed she is at the woman you have become.  And she would end the call telling you once again happy birthday and how much she loved you.  But she did – she loved us more than anything in the world, by far.  And while she is no longer here to tell you that herself, the love and light that she gave us will live on in us as long as we are around.

I will never forget being with Mom at the Bowl for the Rolling Stones. We were in the second row and she had to tell everyone that it was because of her amazing daughter the “Jedeye” who ran the Hollywood Bowl (bless her heart, she never really knew what either of us did for work). As we watched the show Mom was mesmerized by the music and the band, most especially Keith Richards (“He’s not of this world!”), but even more than that she was beaming with pride because everyone came by to say hello to Kira’s mom, the woman that made such an incredible and beautiful and special person. They came by to compliment Mom and pay their respects.  The look of happiness and joy and pride on her face because you were her daughter – it is and always will be one of the happiest memories of my life.

I see so much of Mom in of you.  You and Mom are both short people with huge hearts, tons of spirit and loads of gumption. You both put others ahead of yourself, probably too often. Smart but tough with a desire to make the world a better place by giving so much more than taking. You and mom share an energy and aurora that I can’t describe but I can most certainly feel. If Mom was here today she would be so proud of you Kira. She really would. 

Well I don't really know what else to say so I will just say Happy Birthday! You are an incredible woman. You amaze me every single day. It is an honor and a privilege to be your best friend, your former roommate, sometimes a pain in your ass and most of all your Brother. I love you so much. I always have and I always will.

Love,

Brother

P.S. I don’t know if this is the best or the worst gift I have ever given you (could go either way), so just in case I am also going to make a donation to Stella’s Hope in your name. Jackson insisted.