My sister

I have been thinking a lot lately of memories. Good memories that illuminate my face with a smile, that merrily hum inside, life’s rainbows placed strategically within Life’s storms. I am talking about the kind of memories that are multicolored and make you stop and oh and ah. They make your eyes dance and your heart happy. Memories of my sister and I “playing” kitchen under big oak trees with all of our babies scattered all around us. Memories of us naming our first dog Fred, of swimming in our pool and the wall caving in and being swept down the hill in our floaties crying because our pool was gone-


Then, there were times that we would crawl into each other’s beds and cuddle up..who needed two twin beds in one room..a waste. Sitting Indian style on our Holly Hobby bed spreads in our pj’s and our pigtails, we would play our record player over and over. We would sing.. “Hoo He Hoo HaHa Ting Tang Walla Walla Bing Bang-I told the witch doctor I was in love with you. “ so many similarities and so many differences- I was the bossy one (I know…all of you are not surprised) and she was the whiny one. I was the spender and she was the saver. That girl would save Easter candy until Christmas or Nana’s five-dollar bill for months…all in her special drawer…not me I was impulsive one and quick to devour any treat that came my way. What was a special drawer anyway? I lived in the moment. She was the tiny cute one and my cheeks were round and chubby. She loved to draw; I found it challenging to draw a stick person. She wore glasses, and I did not. When my sister wore glasses, they were not the fashionable things that you see today that kids can choose from. No, her’s were the thick bottle caps..thick as possible and certainly not attractive. She hated them, to the point that they occasionally “just happened” to break. I remember covering her back on several occasions when the glasses would mysteriously disappear. I remember threatening to beat up people if they made fun of my sister again and my mom will tell you I would. I protected her-she was mine to protect. We moved a lot growing up and it was ok. It was ok because my friend, my BFF was moving along with me. As we grew older, and visited those “teenage years”, where rainbows seem to come a little less frequently we were pulled down different roads, different adventures-time did not stand still for the two little girls in ponytails sitting on the Holly hobby bed’s.


Now, as mothers, we both have children of our own. We both live crazy, chaotic lives. We are both just as different today as we were then. She bakes her bread (the best by the way) and I can’t seem to get mine in the house unsmushed. I work and she is a stay at home CEO. She can work a sewing machine like none other, and I am officially labeled “sewing challenged-not trainable”. Ok..I feel my wide fuzzy memory smile coming across my face. We’re so much alike too. Servants of Christ Jesus, grounded in his Word-Dedicated moms-Dedicated wives-Do not mess with our families! Our passion for housekeeping and cooking and swapping recipes. Our paths do not cross as often as we would like, but when it does-you feel the automatic connection called sisterhood. The laughter, the joy-the possessiveness-it’s all there.


I thank you Father that YOU strategically placed her in my life. YOU allowed our paths to intermingle knowing that there are not many people in life that know the true Tracy, the me inside, and walk with me anyway. But…That’s what sister’s do.

<photo id="1" />