Sisters

I’m sitting here on the couch at 4:30 a.m. just thinking. It’s been a very emotional week for me. I have been so reflective, contemplating my life and everything about it.
So much has happened to me in these short 34 years, and the only word that I can think of to describe my life is the word “blessed.” In so many ways, I have been blessed, and some of the biggest blessings in my life are the relationships I have. Those relationships with my husband and parents and friends have shaped me and molded me into the person I am today.
But when I think about the relationships I love the most in my life, It would have to be the ones I have with my sisters. Just thinking about my 3 sisters brings tears to my eyes. Memories pour through my mind. Memories that make me smile, laugh and cry.
It’s so funny. My sisters are so different and they have each filled a need and a void in my life that could never have been filled by anyone else. They are the greatest gift my mother and father ever gave me. A gift that I wouldn’t trade for all of the money or fame in the world.
Just the other night I stared at Darla, my sister who is 3 years younger than I am, as she sat with me on the floor in my parent’s basement. We were sitting together, just talking. I looked into her pretty blue eyes and touched her long straight golden hair. I twirled it in my fingers as she talked about her little girls.
Darla is 31 and I am 34, but I can so easily remember when she was 10 and I was 12. I couldn’t stand her because she annoyed me. I remember being so impatient as I couldn’t wait until we would move into our new house in Upper Marlboro so that I wouldn’t have to share a bedroom with her anymore. I didn’t like her tattling on me, and I didn’t want to share anything with her anymore.
I didn’t like that she had all of the baby dolls, either. I remember how she got this special Baby Alive doll for her birthday. The doll looked so real, and I was jealous. I wanted to play baby dolls, too, but only because she did. So I pretended to be a mother to Thumbelina – the doll with the cloth body and the bad hair. I wanted to be like Darla, but I didn’t want her to know that. I was jealous that she could play the piano, and I was jealous that she was always the teacher when we played school.
Last night I watched Darla’s two little girls as they played together, and they reminded me of us.
I remember not liking my sister Darla sometimes, but I also remember really loving her, too. I remember those Christmas mornings when we’d push our twin beds together and dream of what we’d get from Santa Claus. I remember playing outside and making obstacle courses in the summertime. I remember sitting at the dinner table and playing like we were kids in an orphanage when we didn’t like the food mom was serving. I loved swimming in the pool with her and playing Barbies together. I loved having singing competitions in the van when we’d go on trips.
When I look at Darla, I see strength and I see Christ’s hands. She’s taught me that people need love and that they need Jesus. She’s never cared what anyone but Jesus thinks of her, and I love that about her.
If Darla has taught me about strength, then my older sister Cherie has taught me about compassion. Cherie is 5 years older than me, and I was never ever jealous of her. Quite honestly, I was in awe of her. I kindof idolized her. She was the pretty older sister that was in high school when I was in 7th grade. She was a Senior. I remember her walking down the hallway with her friends. She had a big locker, and when she’d wave at me, I felt important. She never made me feel like the stupid little sister. I loved when she drove me around and when she’d let me wear her jewelry or clothes. She had these black sunglasses with paint splashes on them. I loved when she let me wear them.
I remember when she was homecoming queen and she wore her purple dress. It was so pretty. She wore the crown and she let me stand beside her. I remember the time she took me to the movies with her own money. We drove all around town to see “The Vanishing.” It was the dumbest movie, but I remember that she took me alone and treated me to the movie all on her own. She paid for it all!
I am sure I annoyed her as I followed in her footsteps, working at the same store she worked at when I was old enough. But she was my supervisor and she treated me fairly. She was never hateful, even though I was immature. I remember her kindness and the fact that she would take me places. She didn’t ever leave me out.
She was older than me and I can remember crying my eyes out when she left for college. I hated every minute she was gone. I was so happy when she came back home and didn’t go back the next year.
I just loved my big sister. I thought she was cool and she was everything I wanted to be. She took care of everything and to this day she still takes care of things. She is the nurturing, loving mom who is filled with love and compassion for everyone. She has taught me what dedication, loyalty and friendship means.
And then there’s my littlest sister Betsy, who is 6 years younger than me. I remember sitting on the bed with Betsy in her bedroom on Flag Day. She wanted to get saved and she asked Jesus into her heart that day. I got to be there for her. I remember many times when I would bribe Betsy into get me an iced tea or candy. I would tell her that I would tell mom that she did something bad unless Betsy would go get me what I wanted. She was easily tricked, especially if Darla joined in with me. We would use Betsy’s Barbies, and we’d leave her out of the game many times. She got the job of doing everything we wanted her to do without much reward, and she was teased mercilessly. I always felt like Betsy looked up to me. I loved taking her roller skating on Saturdays, and I remember being there for pivotal events in her life. Betsy has this knack of making me feel so important and needed. One of the greatest moments in my life happened this week when my nephew was born into this world. Betsy asked me to stay in the delivery room. I was so honored to be asked to witness the birth of her son. The fact that she wanted me with her made me feel so important and needed. I felt so honored and trusted to be there to see my nephew enter this world. I can’t have children and I always felt cheated of the ability to experience the miracle of child birth. But It was just so special to be asked to witness the birth of my precious nephew. I got to be there during the entire delivery. I got to see the miracle of birth, and I wasn’t even expecting it. Betsy has that way about her. She’s always surprising me and she’s so thoughtful to think of me. I remember when she found out that she was pregnant. She was worried to tell me that she was pregnant because she knew that I can’t have kids although I really want them. She was so concerned as to how I would take the news that she would be a mom. She cried, and I cried, for happiness, of course. And I cried when I saw my nephew enter this world. What a gift Betsy gave me! A chance to see this little life come into the world.
My sisters have each been so special to me. Their presence in my life has shaped me and made me into a better person. I love them and couldn’t imagine walking through this life without them.
They each play this certain roll in my life. They fill a cavity, a part of me that wouldn’t be whole without them.
I talk to them each several times a week, and even though we live far away, they are still near to my heart.
They each have children, and I especially pray for Darla’s girls to have the kind of sister relationship that I have with my sisters. It’s a bond that will never be severed. It’s a bond that I promise to always cherish and one I’ll never take for granted.