Yesterday was one of those days where you wish could save time in a bottle. I had time for me, time for my children, time with my husband and time with one of my dearest friends who is more of a little sister than a friend. When I got off the phone it was going on 1 am and the world was still, it was in the stillness my thoughts drifted to my 3 sisters, each one of them strong, beautiful and so different from the others, how I treasure each of them. It was then my fear for my sisters crept into my thoughts; this is not an old fear but one that haunted me when my oldest sister passed away.
Do they know how much I love them? Do they know I am here for them? Do they know they are the secret treasure in my memories and heart that only sisters can be…?
It was difficult when my oldest sister left this world. It had been many years since I had last seen her. She was born with cerebral palsy and complications during birth had caused a lack of oxygen resulting in brain damage. But we grew up never knowing that she was to be treated any different than we were. We played together under the Vegas sun, hours in the sandbox and wheel chair races down the driveway. When I was 10 my parents divorced and my sister was placed in a group home. For the first few years we would visit her, birthdays, holiday’s and weekends. But as life went on the visits became less and soon they stopped, I was about 14 years old. It was then my youngest sister was born, she filled our hearts with her sweet new life, for me she was not a replacement to my older sister but another sister for me to love and now I would get to be a big sister, this was huge for me I had been the youngest.
I won’t pretend to know why my mom stopped taking us to see Angie, maybe it hurt her heart to see her, or maybe she needed her freedom. I do not judge my mom, I simply just accept that there were reasons I may never know. Life for all us girls was turbulent, to say the least, with our mom, but growing up we had each other through good and bad times.
I know my other older sister has huge struggles with our past, and has referred to Angie as her demon that haunts her. My sister has not healed from our childhood, her scars so deep that they still bleed. I watch helpless as she chooses to use alcohol to numb her emotions, how I wish she knew that she is loved. She was my protector as a young girl, she is my big sister and I covet the sweet memories of sisterhood in our younger years. We faced monsters, real and imaginary; we solved mysteries out of the pages of our Nancy Drew books… how I love the hours passed with my big sister…
Oh, what can I say about my little sister… I always felt a bit of sadness that she was born so much later, she never got to know the joy of playing with her sisters, fighting over cloths and bathroom time, and giggling into the wee hours of the night when we were supposed to be fast asleep. I was out of the home by the time she was 2, but she is strong and faced monsters on he own. She bravely faced our mom when she came out and told her she was gay. She marched to her own drummer, she stood her ground and she did it on her own, I am so proud of her.
How I wish they could see through my eyes, to see how I see them. How strong and beautiful they are. How because of each relationship with each of my sisters they helped me to grow to be who I am today. I love my sisters so much and I want them to know this. So I am making a stand against the monster of time and miles apart, I will slay the beast with hope and love and keep our sacred sisterhood alive in my heart. I will always be there for each of my sisters, and will always love them no matter what. Together we can stand shoulder to shoulder and hand in hand and conquer anything… That is the power of sisters.