Honor our Elders
Though I start with the heading of Honor our Elders knowing that I am putting my life in jeopardy … considering I am speaking in reference to my sister … my OLDER sister (she says in a whisper!). I still have to say that to do this act of grace is a pure pleasure. What may seem to her as a chore for me is in all actuality an honor. This is a girl who carried me around on her hip when I was a baby … endlessly. This is a girl who looked after me day in and day out because that’s what the oldest girl did back then. This is the girl who took my turns at chore time, played with me, and became my best friend.
It seems reasonable that sisters would turn out to be best friends but in families it is a toss-up. It is Russian Roulette whether or not the siblings will even speak to one another after all the growing up is over. The family dynamic is a petri dish of emotions and added dramas that sometimes do not make for friends when all is said and done. I am fortunate that I am the youngest of three girls and both my sisters have been a strong influence in my life. They taught me how to survive as well as flourish. I have never known them to do one thing to harm me or keep me from success. I am very lucky.
Gift of Grace
Although I am lucky and I know it, I also know that this is a gift of grace. It ain’t easy being related. Look around, dysfunction abounds. We have our own measure of that dysfunction but my sister(s) have been a calming effect in the life of a latch key kid. This of course dates me since the 1970’s was the time when this phrase was coined. This was the era when everyone realized that the mothers were back at work and staying there and many, like my Mom, had to work three jobs. Women of divorce were everywhere and so when these older siblings gave of their lives to take care of us snot nosed brats it only can be a work of grace.
Still a girl
The cute thing about this sister ‘o mine is she is yet still a girl … down to her love of KED’S … the sneaker! She LOVES THEM! Always when she is in casual dress she will be wearing them.
Today was the last time for her, this good old girl (self-proclaimed name and great blog title www.goodoldgirl.wordpress.com) to be taken by me to get her last eye poked! She had eye surgery (ouch!) on both eyes to correct cataracts (I told you she was old! hee-hee) and it corrected her vision also. She now has bionic eye balls! (Insert bionic sounds — boingggg!) (Once again, ’70’s trivia … ugh!)
The second one took a bit longer than the first one and I did send a text to my preacherman husband to pray all was well. I got a little psyched out for a minute! When I was allowed to go in to see her, there she sat … totally messed up! (Sooo funny by the way.) Spacey and quizzical … with her ankles crossed, bee-bopping her KED’s like a little girl.
Time to take her home, safe and sound but because of her lack of food and Dr. Pepper we ventured to our favorite spot. This place has been here in our home town for forever … at least since late sixties I would guess. Sir Pizza on Main Street was the quintessential hole in the)wall. In the ’70’s it was rehabbed into a lush garden, lattice and greenery with fake flowers stuck all around; porch swings at tables (two of those, good place to get carsick) and ugly carpet. If there is a Hippie in the area he has worked at Sir Pizza!
We all have our forbidden stories about the place, things we don’t tell or we would have to kill you. My first date with my husband was there, in the back booth. He wasn’t from here so I had to break him in right! My sister and I always sit in the same booth, order the same pizza every time, drink out of the BALL Mason jars and enjoy the memories. Today, I realized that if we had come there for the first time today, we wouldn’t have stayed. It is a bit grimy and disgusting but it is our place and it is Home.
Thank you sister, you are a good old girl! I am always honored to be there for you as you have always for me! Especially when pizza is involved!