When I was 1020 days or 2.79 years old, my mother came home from the hospital with my baby sister. I can remember looking eagerly into the back window of the car to see Mom and the new baby. I remember being told to go into the living room and sit on the couch so I could get to hold her. I did and I have treasured her over the decades ever since.
My sister is an amazing person. I have rarely seen her angry. She is a deliberate person who seems to know who she is and where she is all the time. She thinks clearly and expresses herself well.
One of the memorable moments a few years ago was when I heard her suddenly don her professional self and voice to talk to people in another state about settling my deceased mother’s affairs. She has spent time on the phone listening to unhappy, irate and confused customers. Listening to her deliberate and soothing tone, I almost wished I had a problem I could consult her over. I am used to her friendly voice but I didn’t know about the knowing and consoling self she also has.
Our parents divorced when I was ten. I still had my mom and my sister, though, and that was what was important. I went to an all-boys high school but I still had my sister right across the way in the all-girls school next door and that was what was important. I had married and moved to another state but I still had my sister and that was important. A guy came along and she married him and they had three children and five grandchildren but I still had my sister and that was important.
We are both in later phases of our lives now but I still have my sister and that is very important.
