Sisters

I have always envied people who came from big families.  It seems like they always have so much fun at their huge get-togethers involving spouses, cousins, in-laws and out-laws.  The best part of big families is that there always seems to be one sibling that is also a best friend.  It's not just the fact that they are related and love each other, but they are also the confidant that shares your late night confessions and holds your deepest secrets. 

I have one sister.  That's it. 

Not only do we only have each other but we are about as opposite as two people can get.  I love her dearly.  I would do anything for her.  I will probably never really understand her. 

To begin with she is five years older than I am.  That's no big deal now but when I was 2 and she was 7, or when I was 8 and she was 13, it was a big deal.  Then add to that the fact that we are so totally different both physically and emotionally that if she hadn't looked so much like my dad and I looked like my mom, the small town minds would have had a hay-day with our differences. Trust me, if you put 100 people in a room and tried to pick out my sister, you would pick 99 others before you picked her.  We are really different.

As a child, she had auburn hair that curled perfectly around a redhead's fair skin and freckled face.  She grew to five feet nothing tall and weighed a whopping 89 pounds in high school.  Dainty and petite, she was born persnickety.  From an early age everything had to be neat, organized and controlled.  Her dolls would be kept in untouched condition, arranged by size, on her shelves.  Her entire room was always immaculately neat with every item in it's appointed place.   I swear she could make her bed in 2 seconds because she even slept neatly.  I gave up trying to sneak into her room early on because I knew she could tell if I even walked on the rug!   She never appeared anything but totally together--blouses tucked in, belt fastened, socks folded neatly at her ankles and shoes clean.

I, on the other hand, was none of these things.  I appeared at an impressive 8 lbs. 8 oz. with a robust appetite for everything!  I had stick straight, brownish blond hair and I outgrew her before I was 10 years old.  From an early age I was attracted to anything that created a mess and dirt!  I could be found happily making mud pies (yes, kids really did do that!), grubbing out miniature ponds for my dirt farms, digging worms for fishing, hunting nightcrawlers, climbing trees, chasing dogs, catching insects, wading in puddles and sliding into home base. My preferred toys were guns, bows and arrows (for playing cowboy and Indians) and a baseball glove.  Any dolls I had were quickly reduced to disgrace by my penchant for dragging them with me as I galloped off on my stick horse.  My clothes were generally, ripped and torn, grass stained and disheveled. As far as I was concerned, socks and shoes were optional and I usually opted not to wear them.

My sister preferred staying inside and doing quieter and cleaner activities.  She probably spent a lot of time fantasizing about having a normal sister.

My mother, bless her soul, tried to teach both of us to enjoy the things she prized.  As an avid needlewoman she spent hours teaching us to knit, crochet, embroider, needlepoint, and sew.  My sister's efforts were neat, meticulous, and lovely, turning out perfect needlepoint chair cushions, crochet scarves, and embroidered samplers.  Mine were wrinkled, stained, misshapen, wobbly, and usually unrecognizable as any useful object.  (She still does the most beautiful crochet afghans and perfect needlepoint, but I can identify nine trees by their leaves and build a fire with one match!)

My mother considered me a lost cause and turned me over to my father to raise. 

I always think of my sister as Melanie in Gone With the Wind. Meek and mild, always doing what is expected of her.  Quietly letting others take the lead and carry the load, but coming through with an unconquerable  strength when the chips are down.

She probably would think of me as Calamity Jane.