There is no better friend than a sister. And there is no better sister than you. ~Author Unknown
I'm off for a weekend at the Coast with my baby sister. We'll enjoy (most of the time) two days and two nights of each other's company, unencumbered by husband, significant other, work, household duties, and all the ordinary, everyday aspects of life.
I expect we'll eat too much, drink a little (really!), laugh a lot, reminisce a bit, disagree on not a few things, and perhaps even have to send each other to our respective corners of the room at least once. We'll read, shop, walk in the sea air, check our email, watch a movie or two (I do hope she remembers to bring "The Queen" so we can watch it again!), nap, and then do it all again.
We try to do this once a year, and it's usually in late summer that one of us will say, "Hey, we need to spend a weekend at the Coast!" We check our respective schedules, the bank balances, motel availability, and set a date. It's always great fun.
We haven't always been close: I'm 3-1/2 years older but the age divide often seemed much greater. Peggy's teen years spanned a time of great upheaval in this nation - Vietnam, student riots, the feminist movement. She was always (and still is) much more liberal than I. She moved to Oregon and - horror of horrors! - lived in sin for a few years before marrying the man she was living with - a marriage that has now lasted nearly 36 years. That's a record in our family for several generations!
I, on the other hand, married, had kids right away, and settled into my own smug, self-righteous little world, often barely tolerating my wild child sister and her hippie-dippie ways. (For the record, she also barely tolerated me most times, but living 3,500 miles apart helped!)
We stayed in touch, usually through long, hand-written letters, often composed over the span of days or weeks. We'd put them in the mail, then immediately call and say, "I mailed a letter to you today!" Sometimes I miss that.
When I moved to Oregon in '94, it was my sister's family who provided a home for my youngest son and me until I got on my feet. When I am happy or sad, she's still the person I want to talk to. When I miss our mother, it's my sister who stops what she's doing to listen to the loneliness, share the memories - and a few tears. I wouldn't trade her, or our relationship, for anything in the world. Okay, maybe for a smaller dress size. (Just kidding, sis!)
And awaaaaaay we go!
She is your mirror, shining back at you with a world of possibilities. She is your witness, who sees you at your worst and best, and loves you anyway. She is your partner in crime, your midnight companion, someone who knows when you are smiling, even in the dark. She is your teacher, your defense attorney, your personal press agent, even your shrink. Some days, she's the reason you wish you were an only child. ~Barbara Alpert