Sister Day
Lo these many years ago, two little girls in Westfield, Massachusetts decided that if there was a Mother's Day, Father's Day and Grandparents' Day, there should be a Sister Day.
Well, it's sort of backwards. The first Sister Day was a day in which my bratty little sister strangely decided to be nice to me all day. She was sweet and nice and hugged me and even did my chores, which had me checking under my bed that night, let me tell you. I'm not saying we fought a lot as kids, but I will say we had very different personalities as children. I was the quiet one. (Hush you, in the back. I heard that.)
Things were back to normal the next day, of course, but I didn't forget. I wrote about it in my diary. And a year later, on that same day, I did the same for her. And we decided from then on that March 31 would be Sister Day. Being that this was waaaaay before the internet, we had no way of knowing there is an "official" Sister Day on Aug. 3. By the time we did know, it was too late: March 31 was our day.
Time and lives being what they are, the number of Sister Days we've been able to spend in the same time zone, much less the same ZIP code, have been regrettably rare. And this year I cannot even call her, as my voice is pretty well shot from this evil awful cold that wants to kill me, and being the last day of the month she is running madly about doing.... all that mortgage-y stuff that mortgage people do on the last day of the month. I don't know - she has explained to me exactly what she does for a living about eight times and I still don't get it. She is also the smart one, folks.
I've written before that my sister is my personal hero, and so I won't gush all over her again and embarrass her. If I want to embarrass her, I'll pull out The Stories. (Muahahahaha.) But this year it's a bit different, because she's one of the ladies who was willing to stand up beside me in overpriced satin after a long night tying favor bags under the influence of margaritas. Or that's kind of how I think it's going to go.
The 'Maids have had their own private chat going on for a while now, and that's been one of the most fun parts of this whole wedding nonsense: bringing together my dearest friends from the far-flung parts of my life to get to know each other and share the snark and the silliness. In a way, they're all my sisters. I just might tell them so, if you don't think they'll get a big head.
But today... this one's for me and Melanie. Happy Sister Day, squirt. You're still my hero.
Well, it's sort of backwards. The first Sister Day was a day in which my bratty little sister strangely decided to be nice to me all day. She was sweet and nice and hugged me and even did my chores, which had me checking under my bed that night, let me tell you. I'm not saying we fought a lot as kids, but I will say we had very different personalities as children. I was the quiet one. (Hush you, in the back. I heard that.)
Things were back to normal the next day, of course, but I didn't forget. I wrote about it in my diary. And a year later, on that same day, I did the same for her. And we decided from then on that March 31 would be Sister Day. Being that this was waaaaay before the internet, we had no way of knowing there is an "official" Sister Day on Aug. 3. By the time we did know, it was too late: March 31 was our day.
Time and lives being what they are, the number of Sister Days we've been able to spend in the same time zone, much less the same ZIP code, have been regrettably rare. And this year I cannot even call her, as my voice is pretty well shot from this evil awful cold that wants to kill me, and being the last day of the month she is running madly about doing.... all that mortgage-y stuff that mortgage people do on the last day of the month. I don't know - she has explained to me exactly what she does for a living about eight times and I still don't get it. She is also the smart one, folks.
I've written before that my sister is my personal hero, and so I won't gush all over her again and embarrass her. If I want to embarrass her, I'll pull out The Stories. (Muahahahaha.) But this year it's a bit different, because she's one of the ladies who was willing to stand up beside me in overpriced satin after a long night tying favor bags under the influence of margaritas. Or that's kind of how I think it's going to go.
The 'Maids have had their own private chat going on for a while now, and that's been one of the most fun parts of this whole wedding nonsense: bringing together my dearest friends from the far-flung parts of my life to get to know each other and share the snark and the silliness. In a way, they're all my sisters. I just might tell them so, if you don't think they'll get a big head.
But today... this one's for me and Melanie. Happy Sister Day, squirt. You're still my hero.
 |
| Whatever I said, she thought it was hilarious. |
Comments
Post a Comment