My sister, Carol, with her grandson, Pierson, a few years back.
They say you can’t choose your family, but if it were possible, I’m sure I’d pick this amazing woman to be my sister – hands down. We’ve been part of each others’ lives for 71 years. She’s the kind of person you can be away from for a long time and then pick up where you left off in just a heartbeat.
She inherited all the good stuff from our parents – her good looks, her personality, her creative, decorating style, her laughter, her humor, her joy for life and determination. Both of us come from a long line of strong individualists. We don’t usually get on a bandstand to voice our opinions, but we genuinely have them.
She arrived in my life when I was almost five years old. By that time I had carved a niche for myself within the entire family and was the only grandchild on both sides. In other words, I was spoiled rotten. My first inclination was to run away from home because she’d stolen the limelight. There I stood in my chenille bathrobe and slippers, carrying my little suitcase and teddy bear, ready to walk out. Even at an early age, I was very dramatic.
I’m glad I stuck around though, because she and I hit it off pretty good for the most part. Unfortunately I wasn’t a very good sister to her. I made her sit in the back of the bus when we rode to school so I could be alone with my friends. I was jealous of her popularity. I couldn’t fit into her clothes because she was such a petite little thing. When you think about it, I was a crummy sister, but she still loved me in spite of it. That’s what family love is all about – unconditional.
Today I thank God for bringing her into my life, because without her, part of me would not exist. I love you, Sis and Happy Birthday!