Remembering Diane
Few of them grew up with shotguns parked in the corner of the dining room, transmissions in the living room or dinner hanging in the trees. Short of someone with Sheldon Cooper's eiditic memory, I doubt anyone can recall anything with 100 percent accuracy. My memories are shaded, of course, by my position in the family, ability to see/remember and the myriad influences that come with re-telling.
But my sister Diane really did scratch her butt with a revolver while shooting rats at a dump and subsequently shot said butt because she still had her finger on the trigger.
She was actually lucky to be alive to do that because decades earlier, she'd called my eldest sister, Donna, the "b-word." We were a Pentecostal household where you weren't even supposed to say "shoot" because it was just a placeholder for the worse word. Donna took high offense to Diane's slur. So she did what anyone would do: she grabbed the nearest shotgun and set out after Diane, who had smartly decided to flee the scene. My mom, driving home, saw her two eldest children as she drove by. Probably, she just kept on driving. But the sight of the family car - or the distance spent running - was enough to get Donna to come home, gun not discharged. I don't know how long it took Diane to slink back in the door.
Diane was considered the rebel child. Partly because the Pentecostal thing didn't take in her - at all - and given a choice, she'd just naturally defer to the devil on her shoulder rather than the angel.
As a babysitter to her younger siblings, she was the best. Because she didn't pay attention to us whatsoever. It was on her watch that we played with gasoline and matches and set the orchard on fire. Debbie survived by hanging like a sloth from an apple tree, right above the flames. I don't know if she was even there when the boys set the creek on fire - also with gasoline - but the precedent for using the accelerant was definitely set under her absent eyes.
Diane is on my mind these days because, like countless humans before her, has lost her battle with cancer. She was first diagnosed during Covid and had responded so well to her treatment that she mystified her doctors. Could it have been due to the copious amounts of pot and fast food she has consumed since her teenage years? The world may never know.
Had I not spent time with her lately, I would have bet on her coming out on top again. She's just that stubborn. The pain was horrific, even with drugs and the wonderful and caring staff at the Good Samaritan Center where she spent her last few days. They were all amazing caretakers and my sisters and I are so grateful to them.
We've been reminiscing of late, of course. How she never met a vegetable she could tolerate. How she loved to feed the fish in the morning with Jim Bradbury when she'd stayed with him and Donna when she first fell ill. She'd named (and claimed she could tell apart) the fish that would fight for food. Chompers was her favorite. She even named the deer that would visit the pond and the fawns that would play in it.
Naming the fish and feeding them didn't keep her from loving a good fish fry. I assume Chompers was given absolution from ending up in the fryer, but who knows what might have happened had she seen his parts ready for breading. I think Nancy Bradbury usually supplied the fish, sourced from a different pond.
A couple weeks ago, my sisters and I were with her for what would be her final cancer doctor appointment. The three of them spent far more time ferrying her about to doctor visits and spontaneous road trips. (They're all very much (ha!) older than me and already retired, plus they all live near each other.) "I'm going to miss our Tuesdays," she said. Tuesday was her chemo day.
They're going to miss those days, too. Diane was a force of nature. Life of the party. Ride or die. I wouldn't be surprised to learn she'd actually helped hide a body or two. She was also someone you wouldn't want to be your enemy as a few of coworkers would confirm. But it took a lot to get on her bad side.
She loved deeply. And even for an often absent sister, she had a smile and a story. She delighted in pulling pranks with the nieces and nephews, Alison included. Ali called her not long before she got really unwell and made her laugh with a story about her first encounter with a post-Hurricane Atlantic Ocean and a jellyfish.
Diane didn't want a funeral or visitation so her service will be short and casual. Six p.m. Saturday, September 23 at the K&P Cemetery in Hymera. If you loved her, come and tell a story. That, she would like.
Diana “Diane” Lynn Mitchell
Diana Lynn (Bickel) Mitchell of Jasonville was born March 15, 1956, to Donald and Lucy Bickel in Linton, Indiana, the second of their seven children. She passed away Friday, September 15, 2023, in Jasonville, Indiana, of complications due to cancer.
Diane fought a courageous and characteristically witty battle since her 2020 terminal diagnosis, defying the initial prognosis by more than two and-a-half years.
She was a Steelworker’s Union shop steward during her time at Novelis Corporation and International Paper and was a long-time champion of workers’ rights. She worked at a variety of other manufacturing facilities in and around the Terre Haute area including Columbia House/Sony, Weston Paper and Great Dane. After retiring from Novelis, she enjoyed spending time with her family, mushroom hunting, serving as head chef for family fish fries, feeding fish, road trips with special people and having a weekly pizzaburger from Miller’s IGA in Clay City.
She is survived by four sisters and their families, Donna Bradbury, Nancy Jones, Debra Strahla (all of Jasonville) and Cheryl Reed (Indianapolis) Teresa and Dale Weaver (Indianapolis) Larry and Shirley Bickel and their family (Freedom) Jim Mahan (Shelburn) Wanda Bickel and her family (Coalmont) and other family members, countless friends, including special friends Nancy Bradbury, Peggy Bradbury (both of Hymera) Nikki Auberry (Linton) Dorothy Eccles (Jasonville) Steve and Rose Cox, Lisa and Don Hixon, and Holly and Scott Miller (all of Jasonville.)
She is preceded in death by her husband, Kerry Mitchell, parents Don and Lucy Bickel and brothers Donald and David.
Friends and family are invited to a graveside service at 6 p.m. at the K & P Cemetery in Hymera on Saturday, September 23, 2023. In lieu of flowers, Diane has requested donations to Riley Hospital for Children in Indianapolis, 705 Riley Hospital Dr, Indianapolis, IN 46202.
This is brilliant writing and does Diane justice in telling what a force she was. What a woman!
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