Keeping My Sis Alive

My sis passed away almost two years ago; she would have been 72 tomorrow. I googled events that happened on the day she was born and found an off-the-wall-interesting one.

Shoe rationing began.

SHOE RATIONING! I realize the war effort put a lot of things in short supply that we now take for granted, but shoes??? That would probably start its own war on the Homefront these days!

Anyway, I digress. Sheryl was born on a Sunday. I don’t know what significance that has other than to imagine both my mother and sis at the hospital, one glad it was over, one probably not so glad to be out in the world, while everyone else was probably at church or at home, doing Sunday things. It occurred to me this morning that I don’t know where she was born. Does it matter? Probably not in the scheme of things but I’m idly meandering through my memories of my Sis today.

Like when I dropped her lipstick into the toilet one summer when I was visiting and putting it back without telling her. Telling her YEARS later and her laughing about it instead of being grossed out about it. I’ve probably mentioned that little event more than once, but as a Mary Kay beauty consultant now, I’m secretly horrified that I did something like that and didn’t tell her! I was probably 14 at the time but still! Over 40 years later, and still fresh in my mind.

Her views on children and child-rearing, long before I had ones of my own. My mind being boggled at how she kept everything going, all the juggling she did between her work schedule, Bill’s work schedule, and the kids’ activities, oh my!

Her views on marriage and how much she valued her husband and not only survived but loved all aspects of the commitment she made to her marriage. How obviously those views failed to rub off on me and my own relationships.

Her passion for Bridge and how that passion failed to rub off on me also.

How she kicked my ego to the curb with her Cribbage-playing skills.

Taking a cruise with her (my only one). Her being so seasoned, she started the planning process something like six months before the actual date and me ‘going along for the ride’, knowing she that had it handled like she did everything else in her life. How our schedules didn’t mesh at all (her being a night owl and me loving those moments before dawn, coffee in hand on deck, watching the sun come up). Us getting together in the afternoons or taking excursions together. Her fascination with the turtle farm in Grand Cayman.

Sheryl had a matter-of-fact way of dealing with the issues I called to vent to her about. She talked me down out of the tree more than once when it came to events I saw as major. She crashed the mountains I had made back down into mole hills in a single bound and encouraged me to look at all sides of an issue before jumping to any decision or conclusion.

One of the biggest aspects I miss about my sis is her words of encouragement at anything I decided to undertake. She never thought (or at least never voiced) that any of my ideas were frivolous and instead, she would be online in an instant, giving me resource ideas to market them.

All in all, I’d like to think I made an equally important impact on her life as she did mine, but I wonder if that is truly the case. Missing my sis and remembering her on the day she entered this world.