A Tale of Two Sisters

My sister and I are so close that we finish each other’s sentences and often wonder who’s memories belong to who. We decided it might be fun if we each wrote a common topic on our blogs to see how similar (or not similar) our memories really are.  Our first topic: What a sister means to me. 

Read on!

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my mom and her sister with my sister and me

My mother had sisters. Close sisters. Sisters that she called on the phone constantly. Sisters that were her best-friends. At family gatherings they were always by each other’s side, baking together, each one doing her assigned task like a dance, chatting up a storm and singing. The singing was magnificent, voices rising and falling as one into perfect melody. True sisterhood and true love.

When my sister was born, I was just four days shy of turning two. Everyone told me that she was my present. She came home from the hospital on my actual birthday and we opened presents and ate cake so I knew it was true, my mom brought me a baby for my birthday. 

She was practically the same size as me from the start. There are sweet pictures of me holding my gigantic little sister and I swear her perfect round head dwarfs me. She was a beautiful baby, very round, and very blonde and they named her Shannon Renee.

Shannon loved her Johnny Jumper and I loved pushing her in it. When no one was looking I would push her just as hard as I could and scream, ”Wee baby!!!” As she flew through the air she would giggle and giggle, until she smacked into the wall, then she would cry. 

From the day she was born, I had a constant playmate. We fought like cats and dogs a lot of the time. Often accusing the other of “stealing” each others friends or my sister has a bad habbit of borrowing things “forever”, but she was always my confidant. 

When our mother died, her death brought us even closer. In a way my sister is like a mother figure to me and though I’m older I think that Shannon is the bossier of the two of us, although she just might tell you that I’m the bossy one. 

To sum my sister up isn’t easy. Shannon is the best mom in the world, the worst laundress. She breaks washing machines like a bad habit. She is remarkably talented, the person I go to for good and bad advice. She is my chauffer when I just can’t drive because I’m crazy afraid of driving, and she is my rock.

Thank God we were shown by my mom and her wonderful sisters the true meaning of sisterhood. In truth if you ask me what my sister means to me, all I really have to say is EVERYTHING! 

Me and Shannie

Click here to read my sister's version.