Sisters (Part 2)

It was 11:58pm on December 7, 1996. Melissa Strei had come over to keep me company and help me babysit my younger brothers. The boys were all in bed, and Mel & I had just finished watching "Heidi." The phone rang.

"Hi-ya, Shrimp!" Dad's voice sang. "You have a sister!"

My jaw fell. As each new brother had joined our family, I had pretty well resigned myself to the fact that I was the only girl in a household of boys, and that's the way it would be. Dad's voice simply didn't compute. 

"A what?"

Ruthanna Christine (or "Little Hanna" as a couple of her friends dubbed her when they were about two years old - a moniker she has long outgrown!) introduced me to new dynamic in life: a real live biological sister. In the years ahead she was joined by Tirzah & Jubilee. The days of me being the only girl in the family were gone forever. 

I love each of my little sisters desperately, and it both melts and tears my heart whenever I spend time with them. The girls cling to me, wanting more time with me, fighting over who gets to sit next to me at meals, on the couch, or in the car/van. They line up for hugs, glue themselves to my side, and start tickle fights. They look to me for approval, to share their joys and achievements, and to basically adore them - all of which is easy to do. What's difficult is that I live three hours away. I moved out of Mom & Dad's house when Jubilee was a baby, and moved out of state when she was two. My sisters are growing up without ever having the benefit of remembering me living nearby, and without having concentrated time to truly get to know me - or me them. 

There's also the difficulty of the incredibly huge age gap. Ruthanna, as she's entering her teen years, is getting to the age I can relate to more, but our relationship is so far defined by the bizarre paradigm of being sisters with a natural bond and deep love for each other, and knowing the events of life, but not having had an opportunity to form a heart connection where we really know much about the other's thoughts, dreams, and fears. I have spent a good deal of time pondering this dilemma, and trying to find and create ways to correct it. So far my plans haven't produced much action or fruit, but it's been a relief to have thought of some solutions and strategies to implement in the years ahead. 

As much as I hate watching my little sisters grow older while I'm missing so much of their lives, I am excited to anticipate eventually being able to relate to them more as friends, rather then just the benefactory adult who periodically shows up and "gives good presents."