Someone posted this on Facebook a few days ago:
If I knew who posted it, I’d give credit, but I don’t. However, it has sorta remained in the back of my mind ever since. You may have several sisters—or none at all—but I think just about anyone who has a sister would agree with me that they are special.
Your parents are the ones who go back the furthest in your personal history, but one day you may find yourself in my position. My father has been gone for 22 years, and my mother, though still with us, has very little awareness of anything as she approaches her 98th birthday. That means neither is a source of shared memories.
My sister Barb has been around all my life, plus a couple of years before I was born. Someone made her a cotton candy cake for her 73rd birthday:
I have friends who have known me for a few years or a decade or even more, but Barb is the only one with day-to-day memories of my childhood. In fact, she was right there behind me in many of them:
She remembers me in kindergarten and all the way through school:
I have first cousins I’m close to, and we have memories of visits and other special times when we were children, but Barb is the only one surviving whose memories of me go from the day I was born to the present. Well, she was pretty young the day I was born, but you know what I mean.
Here are some other photos of Barb. In the first, she’s with her daughter Wendy at her (Barb’s) wedding in 2004. She and I are in her back yard in Spokane in 2008, and she and my daughter Lynn surround my mother in the home where Mother lives.
Before you ask, that’s obviously a pillow under my shirt. I couldn’t possibly be that big.
Barb and I haven’t lived in the same state, or even the same part of the country, since she moved to Billings, Montana, in 1965. That’s nearly 50 years of geographic separation, but the familial bonds don’t drop off just because we don’t see each other often. When we do, we pick right up where we left off on the last visit, and when we’re not together, it’s somehow comforting to know that someone who has known me and cared for me all my life is still out there somewhere.
Tell us about your sister—or brother. Our readers would love to hear from you.
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Contact him at dnwalkertx (at) gmail (dot) com or tweet him at @davidnwalkertx.