Sisters

Well, son first. He is bugging me to write. Like I've had nothing else to do lately. I've been traveling back and forth to Hilton Head Island. I've cooked a feast (not nearly as big as some years, but a feast nonetheless) and now I'm packing for a road trip.

Not quite like Thelma and Louise, but a nice getaway. My sisters and I are going to spend some family time. Some time laughing and slapping thighs and giggling and telling funny stories and just having fun.

Last week someone sent a quote about the moments in time that take one's breath away. That was Sister Mary's theme for the eulogy at Mom's funeral Mass. It was lovely then. I copied it and sent out the entire thing to my group of friends. It made me cry, but it also warmed my heart. It's still lovely today.

Mom left us many things. She left us money, house, car, annuity, investments, CDs, and a beneficiary IRA. That last is not cashed out but used for financing yearly trips so that the sisters can get together and honor a mother who left us one more thing – family devotion.

Our aunts, our mother's sisters, do not speak to each other. They fought years ago and stopped speaking. Neither came to Mom's funeral so they couldn't make up there. She continued to talk with both sisters and never would let herself be placed in the middle of their fight.

Now one uncle is dead and the other is very ill. The sisters' fight was a family thing and whose husband did what to whom, when and how. The sisters may never speak to each other again and it makes my heart hurt to think that.

And then I think of my own sisters. The women who have been with me since forever. The ones who share the same stories. The ones who remind me of stories I've forgotten. The ones who are the reason I'm traveling to Gatlinburg, which is much better than going to Beaver. The people who are anchors in my sometimes chaotic life.

I can't believe that we live so far away from each other. I can't believe that we have to plan and scheme to see each other. I'm certain this isn't what I thought we would do when we were squabbling over who got a window seat in the car or who got to choose the piece of cake first.

I can't imagine how dark my life would be without my sisters. I reach for the phone to call Mom on a regular basis even yet. I know I can't and my heart sinks when there is no one who can answer. Then I think, well, I will call a sister. And I do. And I can. And I am so grateful that I have my sisters in a world full of transient people and hurtful and hateful things.

My husband and my sons and my daughter-in-law and my grandchildren are all special to me. They are unique to the world and to my heart. My sisters, however, have been with me longer and know more of my life history than any of these late comers.

Tomorrow I'm going to get a chance to play with my sisters. Both of them. All three of us together. I'm so excited. Now I have to finish packing.