It would be a sorry state indeed to have no sister. I have been blessed with two.
We are each spaced about 1 1/2 years apart. There were two brothers ahead, one behind. What is so special about a clutch of girls?
I found a little motto for Carol's birthday that states that a sister is a friend I have for life. I like that thought. We grew up on the farm, somewhat removed from our school friends but we were never without friends. There was always someone to share a thought, play a homemade game and enjoy a story.
We three each had our dolls to dress, endow with personality and pizzazz and to practise our parenting skills. Judy, the eldest of the three, was already beginning her apprenticeship in household chores, while we two younger ones enjoyed an extended playtime.
Our turn soon came. Judy's chores remained mostly household ones. Carol and I took our turn with pumping and hauling water, chopping and carrying wood and feeding chickens and cleaning the coop. We each assisted in caring for our younger brother. My arms still ache as I recall the heaviness of his sleeping form in my spindly arms.
We all have a common thread that draws us together. We share memories and understand each other with only a few words. The same word pictures arise in our thoughts with the telling of a tale. Each of us has some story that sticks to us personally. Chopping wood always brings to mind the response, “you (namely me) chopped the dog's nose!” I was the avowed animal lover; the dog was my dearest companion. We were each other's shadow, which is how I came to be chopping kindling and Tippy tried to help me.
Judy is given the honour of being twinned with the “bear story”. We had gone as a family to pick rocks off our field on the next quarter. Judy was left at home to finish Saturday's housework. She took the vacuum bag outside for a good shake, and startled a large trespasser, a bear. The brave, boisterous farm dog didn't even see or smell the intruder!
Carol was always the horsewoman and as a young teen finally had a horse of her own. Dusty, like his owner, was single- minded -- he intended to follow his own dreams. He showed his independence on the wrong occasion by giving Carol a sharp nip. She immediately grabbed his ear and returned the bite!
Carol still says being the middle of the three was tough. She was too young to be included in the things Judy was allowed to do. She insists that if she and I together got into trouble, it was always her fault because she was “old enough to know better.”
Now that we are grown we are alike and yet quite different. I love classical music, Carol is a country music singer, and Judy is somewhat of both. My sisters and I share common genes, common dreams. They understand better than anyone else can the trials and joys along the way, as they are made of the same stuff. When I struggle with a tough question, my sisters instinctively know when to listen, to counsel or to remain silent.
They are the ones I turn to. They care, even when they don't understand. We have shared a room, a home and our lives. As sisters we will always be connected, tied together with bonds of love.
