On my frig sets a note from the church we attended before we moved. The anonymous note was written as a prayer request and it reads, “Please pray for an estranged relationship with my sister.” I know nothing more than this, so I pray for both sisters, for whatever hurt occurred, for forgiving hearts and that they would know the Lord.
This note card often reminds me of my relationship with my own sister. Not because our relationship is strained-heavens no! But because we have a tough-as-nails bond. I really don’t know how or when it happened. We grew up playing together on the farm. I didn’t care for her barbies, she didn’t care for my horses. We were united over toy tractors and our bicycles with streamers for the parades we made. We were pretty good friends throughout high school, but I picked on her a lot, trying to make her tough. One time she had enough and she kicked the snot out of me (I totally deserved it). We were friends through our college years and she was my Maid of Honor when I got married. We sort of drifted when I experienced infertility and she was expecting her firstborn, but that was only because of my hurting heart, to which (looking back) she was very sensitive to.
Now, though? This is a woman who is tough when she needs to be and most of the time very good at thinking before she speaks (something I sometimes lack). She is humble and always someone I can call up and say, “I’m I wrong in my thinking?” She loves unconditionally. She’s someone I can complain to about how selfish my husband is and she gets it and then she can help me see how wonderful he is. We can laugh about how we’ll just sit and talk in 20 years when our kids are raised (as we try to sneak in a conversation between the tantrums, meals and cleaning…and (ahem) facebook). She is someone I can call and vent about ‘what Mom said this time,’ but realize that we’re glad to have a mom! I listen to her rants about her neighbors invading her privacy ALL the time and tell her she needs to toughen up. Alas, we joke that she will never be confrontational and that’s something I love about her…because, let’s face it…sometimes I just need her to listen to me and not jump me over my rants and raves.
Anyway, I talked to her twice today and she gets it. She’s the only one who’s been there for it ALL. All. of. the. stuff. My husband knows it all, but he didn’t experience the first 16 years with me. I generally don’t have to explain the history or the “story before the story,” I can just jump right in with, “Rachael? Are you home? Can you talk?” And then bombard her. I’m sure she thinks I’m a little over the top sometimes, but she accepts me as I am. WOW. How often does that happen in this world?
Anyway, hats off to my great sister. I’m not sure what I would do without you. I love you!