Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Today is my sister, Rebecca's birthday. She was born 26 months after I was in Terre Haute, Indiana. I won't say how many years ago. :) I have been told that when my mother was pregnant I told her it was my baby and I named her Becky. My baby Becky. I don't remember that but I like thinking that I knew the baby was my sister. At one point Becky decided that she wanted to go by her formal name and somehow she did it with everyone calling her Rebecca.
I remember answering for her when we were kids so that she didn't have to talk for a long time. I remember that she used to "borrow" my clothes to wear and that once she altered my favorite dress so it wouldn't be too long since I am taller than she is. Our tastes are different in many ways. We are different in many ways. But the history that we share and the love we have for each other makes any differences unimportant.
WHY I LOVE MY SISTER by Janice Marie Dayhoff Ottley
My sister makes me laugh. At times she will say some pretty outlandish things which just crack me up!! If I wrote them down here it probably wouldn't be funny at all. But I can hear the inflection in her voice and her way of saying things and it just kills me. When we are able to be together we get to talking and sometimes we laugh so hard we cry. Every-once-in-a-while I so need a piece of Rebecca sarcasm.
My sister stands by me. As I said previously, my sister and I don't have the same tastes or opinions. But somehow that doesn't make any difference to us. We have differences, we get over it. We need each other, we are there for each other. Emotionally, if in no other way.
My sister is a very mothering person. She counsels me, she gives suggestions, heck, she even bosses me around, just like a mother. I don't care. It just says that she cares about me. She is the actual mother to 9 children: 7 sons and 2 daughters.
My sister is VERY creative. She sews, quilts, crochets, paints, cooks, etc, etc. I and my family have been beneficiaries of her creativity over the years. One year she embroidered a picture of a vase of white daisies for my home. I loved it and it hung in my house for over 20 years. When I moved to Colorado it didn't fit in any more, so I gave it back to her and now it graces her home. It just goes to show what a great job she did on it because it looks exactly as it did the day she gave it to me.
And, bottom line, Rebecca is my sister and my friend. A long time ago we said that if both of our husbands passed away and we needed to go into nursing homes that we wanted to go into the same one and share a room and talk to our hearts content. I don't know if that would ever happen. But if someone wants to embroider a picture of two old ladies in rocking chairs, chatting, and crocheting, you can call it 'Sisters" and I'll buy it.
Happy Birthday, my Baby Becky. I love you so much it hurts.
Posted by Jan at 5:37 PM