Give me the kind of sister who knows all about me, and loves me anyway. I’m fortunate-I have two of them.
Whenever I pull my notepad from my purse, I’m reminded of my sister Pat. The pad was a gift from her. On the cover are the words “More Than Sisters. We share a connection that forever binds us to each other.” Along the side of the cover, two mop-headed women in bright purple and red dresses embrace in a side-hug.*
Pat and I are only sixteen months apart. We kept Mom busy. We’d wander out-of-bounds to the shallow creek and captured mud turtles (we’d always get caught; how can you hide a pet turtle?), once walked barefoot in fresh tar (that stiff cleaning brush hurt), and, after a heavy storm, drank the cascading water in the ditch leading to the storm drain (luckily, the water test was negative for germs.)
In our joint memory bank are recollections of racing in our undies through pelting rain, cuddling with Mom to count the seconds
between lightning and thunder claps to estimate the center of the storm, snatching fireflies in Mason jars to twinkle-light our room as we fell to sleep, and opening the bathroom window to scoop snow from the low roof over the cellarway to play with in the bath tub. We also have recall of crayons, Roy, Dale, and Trigger, paper dolls, the Lone Ranger and Tonto, and the chicken pox. When we became too much for Mom, she’d give us big spoons and send us out back to dig to China (we never reached it, but we believed it was possible).
I was almost ten when our little sister Linda joined us. Because of the age difference, we weren’t close. Yet, over time the three of us just simply joined together, supporting one another through marriages, divorces, and other life happenings. Above all, we gather each year to celebrate us. Linda has become our guru for event planning. Two sister trips are well-worth repeating.
One winter, we arrived in Myrtle Beach for a week’s stay just as a cold icy storm raged along the coast. We never unpacked our warm-weather duds or the beach chairs we’d packed in place of the spare tire. For the entire visit, we wore our sweats all day and all night, washing and drying them each morning before putting them back on again.
We also had an eventful weekend in New York City, resulting in four room changes due to hotel mix-ups. When we entered our third room, we found two men in the same bed, partially undressed, with a sheet tossed lightly over them. They indicated they’d called for a “lady of the night”. They gawked at the three of us like they’d won the lottery. This final error got us the penthouse suite.
For us three “girls”, sisterhood has been a blessing. We give each other love, support, trust, and companionship. When we’re together, we laugh ‘til we’re silly and keep making more memories.
• Blue Mountain Arts. WONDERFUL WACKY WOMEN, copyright Suzy Toronto, a registered trade mark of Suzy and Al Toronto.
(A different Suzy)