...there were never such devoted sisters

White Christmas - Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye dress up and sing that song. It's OUR song now, and we sing it all family gatherings, even sing harmony and do the actions. We celebrated one sister's 50th birthday last weekend in the Cities, and all five of us made it. We are all different, we are; Mom and Dad raised us to be independent, so that's a really good thing. What I really want to say is that there was a moment when we all had on our matching Judith Jack bracelets (and took pictures, of course) that I had this profound feeling of connectedness, as if I could actually feel the cords of love between all of us. No matter where we are in the world, we belong to each other. We share a history, we have the same blood, we are all here at the same time. I saw myself in them constantly, and I always thought I was just this odd, random kind of person that did strange things. Like guzzling 1/2 liter of water without stopping or breathing. One sister laughed and said she does the same thing. Really? Or this lapse of memory about everything. Well, they counted on ME to do the tracking so we could keep conversations flowing. Me with the best memory? Who would've thought?

In the pictures you can see us all with the same white toothed smiles. We LOOK alike, we do, even though two are blonde and three are brunettes. Two are smaller boned, and three are big-boned. We compare genetics - I got the vein-free legs, the curly hair and bag-free eyes (but then I'm the youngest, so we'll see). We share stories, we reveal fears, and long-past incidents rise gently, tentatively to the surface to be looked at in perhaps a new light. And there IS a new light that we see shining on our combined lives. It is a light of compassion and tenderness, of acceptance for the limitations of the people around us. We're not perfect, but by gosh, we're all pretty fabulous. Beautiful, tall, intelligent, kind of loud. I can only imagine the picture we cut when we all 5 walk down the street together. People might even get a little scared at the sheer VOLUME of us all.

But I'm a part of that, and that is very good. Mom called to see how we were doing, but said she didn't want to interfere. "Oh Mom," I said, "You aren't interfering. We love you," and we talked for 1/2 hour until she got tired. We planned my upcoming trip to Bismarck, and how Dad wants me to teach him how to make my now-famous sloppy joes (the recipe that was in the paper last July). He's got the tables set up to go through his tools in the garage, and I can't wait to get started. I love my family. I do. I love them completely and totally and yes, fiercely. I am so grateful that I am a part of this, and I want to keep KNOWING that it's something TO be grateful for. So I treat it preciously, and send one sister a thank-you note for buying me the beautiful earrings for my birthday, and another a thank-you for arranging everything, and another just for being her. And I will call my sister that lives here to have lunch soon. Because time keeps timing, and we keep getting older, and things change and people die, and I just want to be with the people that I love.