CELEBRATING MY SISTER, MY BEST FRIEND

Let's face it there is no one like a sister. Same genes, same family history, same secrets, and the same-gender orientation when dealing with pesky brothers.

Me, standing, Maureen the youngest, in middle. Circa 1963

I am so grateful that you are my sister, Maureen, and that we grew up as allies and not enemies. Perhaps the five-year spread created enough age distance to eliminate competition. Or maybe the fact that one of our brothers teased you so much that I became your protector, determined to see you survive your elementary years.

Also working in our favor, was our mother's frequent brain-washing. "You'll always have each other."

Mom saying, "You'll always have each other."

And we did.

Being the older sister, I became the explainer of life. When our mom's description of the birds and bees(Bless her 1960's Catholic heart.) left you more confused than enlightened I happily filled in the missing details. After all, I had learned them myself while listening in on the collective wisdom of our brothers' friends.

We were Batman and Robin, dashing around the yard in our capes. We were secret sunbathers crawling out of our bedroom window onto the roof to lay out. We rode bikes, shot hoops, played dolls, and always thought the same things were funny.

"EEWW, I'd never swim in the kiddie pool at the swim club. All the babies pee in it. Yeah, they should just put in a flusher. Ha Ha Ha. That's a good one!"

"Remember when Heidi(our dog) pooped in the hall and you stepped in it barefoot? Ha Ha Ha. You hopped on one foot all the way down the hallway screaming EWW, EWW, EWW.!"

"Remember the night we climbed that big fence at the swim club and went skinny dipping. Then when we left we found out the gate was unlocked. Ha Ha Ha."

For many years we went skiing together and nicknamed ourselves "The Chapstick Sisters". We rode the chairlift and talked about everything. Husbands, kids, God, and cellulite.

Maureen and me. The Chapstick Sisters.

When we grew older, uncooperative ACL's wouldn't allow us to ski together anymore. But we have never stopped our semi-annual visits, even though we are separated by more than a thousand miles.

Along the way, you stopped being just my little sister and simply became my very best friend.

You were there for me during many long phone conversations when my precious little boy battled cancer. I was there for you when your precious little boy battled depression.

More adversity followed; too many stories to recount here. But each of them has served to strengthen our bond.

Now you are caring for our elderly mom. You bear most of the burden for her daily care. You juggle doctors, social workers, insurance, hospitalizations, and the emotional roller coaster of being a care-taker.

 You have put your life on hold, and I want you to know that you are appreciated.

I hope you realize that you are a hero

I can't be there as much as I would like to.

 But I will always be your best friend.