Sisters

On Friday I loaded up the kids and made the two hour trek across the state to visit one rock star of a lady. . .
My sister. 

She’s quite beautiful, isn’t she?  She is four years my junior and I absolutely cherish her.  I can not think back on our years growing up without smiling and even laughing at the endless memories that are stored in my heart.  I can still vividly see the slumber parties we had in each others rooms.  Talking and laughing into the late hours until we both succumbed to exhaustion.  I remember making up dances together and then putting on “shows” to anyone who would pay attention.  I can still recall hours spent sitting outside on a blanket surrounded by Barbies on summer days where there was no awareness of time.  There are so many beautiful memories tucked away in my heart and I hold on to them like the precious gift that they are.

  Of course everything wasn’t perfect between us. . . we are sisters and if you have a sister you know that sisters can fight with the best of them.  We did that, too.

I will admit it.  I took advantage of my “older” standing often.  We still laugh at the game we used to play.  My instructions went something like, “Okay, Ashley, I’m going to start the stopwatch and go downstairs for a bit, lets see how much of my room you can clean before I get back.  On your marks, get set, go”.  Like I said, I was no angel. I can’t remember how long it took for her to catch on, but oh it grieved me when she did.  Despite the occasional annoyances and fighting, I loved having a little sister and remember being very protective of her.  No one better mess with my sister. . .

The years have brought lots of changes and a quick inventory would make one think that we are as different as night and day.  She is tattooed and pierced to the hilt and I am as “plain” as could be.  She wears black.  I wear pink.  She’s Rob Zombie, I’m Sara Bareilles.  She’s up late and I’m up early.  But if you looked really close you would find we are more alike than we are different and one thing we have always been able to do is laugh together. . .

We did that on Friday.  This girl knows how to show my kids a good time.  The kind of fun that  the  this Mom avoids at all costs. . .

The Chuck E. Cheese kind of fun. 

I call this a Chuck E. Cheese smile. . .

And let me just tell you. . . I saw my kids excited in a way I never saw them excited before.  “This is awesome!” was exclaimed a minimum of 1000 times.  And when we left Charlie let us all know that “this was an amazing day.” 

A hug of thanks.

We weren’t done yet, though.  It was time to go to “her park”.  What a beautiful afternoon with even more beautiful scenery.