My sister, Jen is here for a visit. Last time we saw each other was two years ago. In that time she has packed up a family and moved to Chicago, endured 18 months of a commuting husband, 2 kids graduated from high school, one cat died, she found a new job in a new city, started book groups to attract like-minded people into their new life, decorated their new pied-a-terre with utter aplomb and showed up at my doorstep the other day looking spectacular.
I love my sister.
We are easy with one another. And we laugh.
We tell and re-tell the story of being fed ‘eggs goldenrod’ when we were young; poached eggs on toast with grated yellow egg yolk sprinkled on top and for dinner when Dad was responsible for us we were treated to bowls of orange juice with apples cut up and floating in it.
Then there was the gerbil she was so eager to give me which chomped down on my finger and I tried valiantly to shake it off (took awhile..).
These are the memories that make up sisterhood.
Here she is now with me- sitting on my elevated toilet seat, walking the dog, uber-cleaning my ENTIRE kitchen for me, eating chips for dinner, loading the walker into the car, telling me about city life and the kids and how it seems a legacy from our mother that we are aging so well!
My heart is happy to have her here. I feel so good about who we have become-together and separately.
I feel that low and deep hum that is family blood flowing strong and tenaciously. The river has always been there but in youth whipped up to a froth with misunderstandings, jealousy and the cruelty that often accompanies individuation.
Here we are, my sister and me..
Just sittin’ up here on the deck of a boat in that river with a beer..
Lookin’ out at the world with interest.
Quiet and content with the punctuation of laughter.