How do people make it through life without a sister?
I've asked myself this question so many times and always felt a twinge of guilt that TG doesn't have a sister, even though she's got two great brothers.
Because I truly can't imagine how different, how empty and downright dull my life would have been without my big sister in it.
In the cookies of life, sisters are the chocolate chips.
Brenda added drama and conflict to my life (fighting over the state of our bedroom)... enriched it with literature (sharing her books with me, like Swiss Family Robinson and Pollyanna and Jane Eyre)... expanded my world (taking me to museums, the zoo and movies I probably shouldn't be seeing)... and gave me a great soundtrack (exposing me to the best from the 60's and 70's.)
Well, she was certainly there for me. If I ever had a problem, I knew she'd be right by my side, no matter how much I'd irritated her seconds before.
The mildest, drowsiest sister has been known to turn tiger if her sibling is in trouble.
Oh, here's another good one that truly applies to Brenda and me...
When sisters stand shoulder to shoulder, who stands a chance against us?
You don't want to test that, believe me. It could get ugly. We're formidable.
That being said, we're not just alike. Sure, we both like reciting Little Boy Blue and watching old movies. We share the same taste in books (just about anything) and enjoy visiting museums, no matter how small.
But she's always been a 'dress' person. A girly-girl. I'm jeans or shorts, definitely a tom-boy. She knew all about coloring hair and curlers. I'm totally hair-inept.
I tend to make mountains out of mole hills while she refuses to even acknowledge mountains exist.
She truly has the most positive outlook of anyone I've ever known.
By example, Brenda taught me about love and acceptance, about appreciating the eccentricities that each of us on this earth has, about the importance of family connections, about looking on the bright side. We had our share of spats and arguments, but as I grew they dwindled, dried up and drifted away into childhood memories and stories.
An older sister is a friend and defender - a listener, conspirator, a counsellor and a sharer of delights. And sorrows too.
She doesn't hesitate to correct me if my facts are a little awry when I relate those memories and stories here on my blog, or I misspell a word. But as she's my biggest fan and cheerleader in whatever I attempt to do, I know not to take it as criticism. She's just burdened with a better memory and writing/spelling skills than I have!
A sister smiles when one tells one's stories - for she knows where the decoration has been added.
She turned 60 today, a number that is hard for me to grasp because in my eyes and heart, she hasn't aged a day in my life.
I didn't get to wish her a happy birthday face-to-face this year as I did last year. In fact, it's been months since I've seen her sweet face in person.
But I called her this morning and now I'll wish her a happy birthday here (I know she'll read it eventually, even though right now she's off gambling in Louisiana in honor of this milestone year. Last I heard she was winning! I'm glad she's having fun and celebrating big!)
So once again, happy birthday, my beautiful sister! I didn't always appreciate you like I should when I was little, but now I thank God, Mama and Daddy every day for blessing my life with you! Have fun and I hope you cleaned out the casino!
Sister to sister we will always be,
A couple of nuts off the family tree.
And proud of it! I love you!
There is no better friend than a sister. And there is no better sister than you.