Sisters Day

Yesterday was “Sister’s Day”, but I was having some problems with my computer and didn’t get to write about it.  I have two sisters who live within a half mile of me and we try to get together once a week, if we can, for lunch at our local Dairy Queen.  We call that “Sister’s Day”, although in reality it’s only an hour or so out of our day.  Our brother lives in Reno or he would be invited too!!!

This blog is not so much about travel as it is about the people I will miss while I am traveling.  Two of those people will be my sisters.  Although, me being the youngest, they tormented me terribly when we were growing up <grin>, I couldn’t ask for better sisters or better friends.

My sisters are Sharon, who is four years my senior, and Laila, who predates me by 7 years (just wait until they read that!).  With that large of an age gap we didn’t always get along as well as we do now.  They teased me unmercifully, especially as I started to grow up.  More than once I would find my training bras stretched across the knobs of a cupboard in our shared bedroom and stuffed with whatever small fruit was available.  

Sharon and Laila would share secrets that I was not privy to.  I remember when Laila was in high school and learned about the birds and the bees.  It was a different and more innocent time then and many high schoolers had very little concept of the basics of human anatomy and function.  Laila was sharing her newfound knowledge with Sharon one day but they didn’t know I was surreptitiously listening.  I really had no idea of what they were talking about but one word brought on such giggle fits that I knew it must be a good one.  I came out of hiding and pestered them to tell me the meaning of that wonderful word but they refused.
 
“Okay,” I replied, “I’ll just keep saying it until someone tells me what it means.” 

And that is how I came to be running through the house, and at the top of my lungs, hollering out the anatomically correct name for what makes a boy a boy!!!  Did I mention, my Dad was a preacher and the times were quite different then?  No Dad, and certainly no Preacher Dad, expected his eight year old daughter to be running amok through the house shouting what might, in that day, be considered an obscenity.  Of course he quickly realized I did not know what I was referring to and there was only one source from which I could have received that information.  Is it any wonder they got back at me some years later with the bra prank?

But all that (and more) are only happy memories.  What matters today is the mutual love and support that we share.  Other than my husband, my sisters are my best friends.  We can share anything with one another and we know that not one of us will go running through the house sharing those secrets.  We can cry together, laugh together, share our hopes, our fears, our concerns, and our dreams.  My sisters have been so encouraging as Russ and I have wrestled with our RV dream.  They encourage me that it is time for “US” (meaning Russ and I) to pursue our dreams and take time for each other.

Not all sisters are this close or supportive and I thank God every day for the relationship that has developed over the years.  I know I am indeed blessed.  A few years ago I made this tribute to my sisters and I would like to share it here for them (and for anyone else who might have sisters).  BTW, there is a black and white photo in there of me and my sister standing on some rocks (I’m holding the dog).  That photo was taken over 50 years ago at Hidden Valley Campground in what was then Joshua Tree National Monument.

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