sister
With graduation behind us for another year, the thoughts of many graduates turn to the traditional graduation trip. It is supposed to be the first step into real freedom the young adult takes. The trips can be as varied as the graduate taking them, and of course, the cost they can afford. My thoughts go back to my own graduation trip. I felt very blessed to be one of the few that got to take such a trip. When I graduated, the graduation trip was not the common thing to do, and in fact, I don’t know of any of my friends that took one. Nevertheless, my parents wanted to give me something special, while not just sending me off alone into the unknown. So, they arranged for me to fly out to my older sister, Cheryl’s house in Plattsburgh, New York, for the Christmas and New Years holidays.
I had never flown, much less flown alone, so this was a big deal for me! My flight was to take me to Chicago, Illinois, where I would change planes and fly on into New York City. My sister and her husband, at the time, would pick me up in New York City. I was very excited about this trip…and I felt very grown up, but at the same time a lot like a Kindergarten child on the first day of school. It was a really tough place to be. The flight was not really the thing that I was concerned about, but rather the change of flights. I believe I had 45 minutes or so between the flights, and I was worried that I would not get there in time.
When my flight arrived in Chicago, and after my initial surprise at the fact that the runway crossed over the highway, which I found very cool by the way, I began my journey over to the connecting flight’s gate…running!!! I’m quite sure I looked very much like the scared Kindergarten child I felt like, but that was something I didn’t really care about at the time. The thought of missing my flight and trying to figure out what to do about that all by myself, in Chicago, was not a prospect I relished,…so I ran. When I arrived at my gate, I found myself 30 minutes early…with nothing to do.
I thought about all the airport that I had run through and not bothered to look at…with a little bit of regret. Still, with only the 30 minutes left, I decided that I probably should stay right where I was. The rest of the trip went very smoothly and I had a wonderful time with my sister and her family. I think I really did some growing up at that time, and I can honestly say that I don’t run to the connecting flights anymore, although there have been a couple that we cut a little close. My graduation trip was a trip I will always remember, and forever be grateful to my parents for sending me on.
My sister, Cheryl and I are the two oldest children of our parents. There are two years between us. Our younger sisters always seemed so much younger than Cheryl and me. Those early years were spent as pretty good friends, with me looking up to my big sister. Cheryl, it seemed to me, always had it all, not is the sense that I wasn’t given anything, but in the sense of being cool, and I wished that somehow I could be as cool as she was. I suppose most little sisters feel that way about their big sister at some point in their lives, but I can honestly say that in many ways, I still look up to my sister. She has a kind and loving heart, and more patience that I have ever been able to work up. Big sisters just don’t get any better. She is a blessing to our entire family
When we were little, we were good friends, but as we got older, the personality differences that siblings will obviously have, really began to show, and there were a number of years, where we didn’t get along very well. We were very different people at that time, although oddly, we really aren’t so different now. We have both looked back on those years and wondered why it seemed so important to do some of the things we did, or fight over some of the things we fought over. I guess, the years just change who people are, and what is important.
As adults, we have come to love, respect, and count on each other. Through caring for our parents, we have come to know how vital our relationship has become. We both bring different things to the table called caregiving, as do our other three sisters, and no one is expendable. As our lives and the lives of those we care for change…adding in-laws and children with needs…the things we are able to do change some too. My life has been very busy lately with my in-laws health needs, and Cheryl has stepped up and carried more of 
the load at our mom’s than I would like her to have to carry. Still, she has carried that load, and given me the time I need to use elsewhere, and for that I am forever grateful.
So much has changed through the years. It happens in life. Cheryl and I have long since resolved our issues, and we are good friends. It’s funny that when we were adolescents and teenagers, we both wondered why God had stuck us with such an irritating sister, but now looking back through the eyes of experience we have both come to know that, clearly God knew exactly what He was doing.
When a kid gets a baby sister or brother, they are usually so excited…especially if they had been the only child. My sister, Cheryl felt that way when I came along. She finally had a baby sibling of her own. I can’t say that she felt that way through put adolescent years, but it was great while it lasted…in those early years.
While we were little, we got along great and loved being sisters. I saw a movie my parents had taken of us when we were little. I had learned to crawl, and Cheryl was pretty hard pressed to keep up with me. In the movie, Cheryl would crawl beside me for a few minutes, but when she started to get behind, she got up and began to walk to catch up. Then she would try crawling again…but it didn’t do her any good. I was too fast for her.
During our adolescent years, we fought like cats and dogs. I’m sure I was always in the way, because Cheryl seemed so grown up and sophisticated to me, and I just wanted to hang out with her and her friends. She on the other hand didn’t want to hang out this her nerdy kid sister. Those days it just didn’t matter what we did, we couldn’t get along. We were too different. And we were both very strong willed. The two things didn’t add up to a comfortable relationship. Thankfully those awkward years don’t last forever.
After Cheryl was married, we still fought, mostly because I was still young and again, we were very different. Shortly after her second child, Toni was born, we had our worst fight…and our last. Yes, it was physical, and…there was no winner. The next day, with both of us feeling a little sore, we decided that we were too old for such fighting. We have been close 
friends and even closer sisters since that day. Not many people who have been at odds so much of their lives can turn around and be very loyal friends. We were and still are very blessed.
I can’t tell you that we never fought again, because we did…but never physical. Our arguments were small and unimportant, and never lasted long. Mostly though, we were very good friends. My life has been so much better because of our friendship. My sister is the amazing person I thought she was when I was a kid. She is strong and yet, kind. She is beautiful in every way. She has a sweet spirit, that is a blessing to all who know her.
My sister, Cheryl was divorced from her husband Rob before their youngest daughter Jenny was born. While divorce is a tragedy, there was a great degree of good that came to Cheryl’s children afterward. They were very young when the divorce took place, and their dad was not a big part of their life after that time. They did have a father figure, however…their grandpa, our dad. Dad was a mentor to them. His continued loving guidance was a major source of stability in their lives.
Dad always saw to it that they got to go on some vacations, and outings to the mountains, as well as drives…a type of outing we all enjoyed. Dad also provided a moral compass as well as help with educational things. Don’t misunderstand me, because they did have their mom, and Cheryl was and is a good mom, but they needed that father figure…someone who could do all the things a dad does with them.
Every one of Cheryl’s kids has told me that their grandpa was the only dad they ever had. Thinking about that I realize how blessed I was to have my dad, because not everyone has that. It’s hard to understand how they felt, because I was never in that position. For my sister’s kids, they had to look to my dad to show them all the things a dad usually shows you. That was not a bad thing for them either. Each one of them has told me about how their grandpa enriched their lives.
It really wasn’t anything so specific that my dad did for them, but rather it was just the love he showed to them…and it was the same love he showed to all his grandchildren, but maybe it was felt a little bit more deeply to them, because they wanted the love of a dad…and they wanted to belong. That is what my dad gave them. A sense of normalcy in their life.
When my dad passed away, each one of my sister’s kids told me that he was the only dad they ever knew. While I can’t pretend to know every detail of what he meant to them. I do 
know that somehow he impacted their lives is a way that made them feel a connection to their grandpa that was unlike the other grandchildren, even though my dad was very much loved by grandchildren and great grandchildren alike. I believe it was the way he became their mentor, showing them how to live, but living the best life he could as a model for them…as well as for the rest of us. That was the kind of man my dad was.
When two brothers and their sister live way out in the country with their mom, and their dad is away on the railroad a lot, they have to find things to do to entertain themselves. I have talked to to my dad and my Uncle Bill about their antics with dynamite on the 4th of July and riding trains to school, and fixing the gatepost before their mom got home…another result of dynamite mixing with boys. And I know that my Aunt Ruth loved all animals…especially horses. But how did they feel about each other, and their older sister. I’ve often wondered that, since we didn’t get to see my aunts and uncle very often.
I think there was a very close bond between those three younger children of my grandparents. Their older sister, my Aunt Laura was 10 years older than her little brother, Bill, 12 years older than my dad, and 13 1/2 years older than my Aunt Ruth. Aunt Laura was in many ways a second mother to the younger three children. She was old enough to help with them when they were babies, and babysit them when they were older…not that she was totally able to keep them out of trouble. And by the time they were grown up, my Aunt Laura was married and raising her own family.
Still, I think that the Spencer children were very close. And I think the younger three, at least, shared a love of animals. My dad always loved dogs, and of course, dogs and farms just seem to go together as do dogs and kids, but I think few people loved dogs as much as my Aunt Ruth, unless it is my grandson, Caalab, who seems to have a lot of likes in common with my Aunt Ruth…not so unusual in that I am also a lot like my Aunt Ruth. Horses and farm kids also go together. They are transportation, before they are old enough to drive, and a lot cheaper than a car to run. Plus, there are things you just can’t do very easily with a car, like standing up on it’s hind legs. Yes, I think they had some great times back then.
Those days are long gone now, and my Uncle Bill is the only one left. The years took each of the Spencer kids in different directions, and different places around the country. My Uncle, who was the first real adventurer in the family, ended up back in Superior, Wisconsin, where they all grew up. My Aunt Laura would live several places, but finally settled in Portland, Oregon. Like her older sister, my Aunt Ruth also lived several places, 
but finally ended up in Newport, Washington. My dad moved around some, until he met my mom and then it was 5 years in Superior, and the rest of his life in Casper, Wyoming. I think that like most siblings, there were times they disagreed, but I do not believe there was ever a time when they didn’t love each other. And, while the years and the miles separated the Spencer kids, they still loved each other very much and spoke through the years, even if they didn’t get to see each other much.
When you are caring for an Alzheimer’s patient, you need all the help you can get. Because of the necessity for extreme hands on care, one person simply cannot do it alone. Our family understands that all too well. It takes a village as my sister, Alena would say to take care of any ill family member, but all too often it is hard to put that village together. This last year, the village involved in caring for my mother-in-law, who has Alzheimer’s, grew by one very important member. My mother-in-law’s sister, Margee retired from her job and offered to help when we needed to leave my mother-in-law home for any reason. Margee sits with my mother-in-law when I need to take my father-in-law to the doctor or if he needs time to get away for a little bit. And when he was in the hospital for a few days recently, Margee played a major role in her sister’s care. We would have been in a very serious situation without her help.
Margee is no stranger to stepping up when she is needed. Her own daughter-in-law died a little over 13 years ago, leaving behind a grieving husband, Margee’s son Dan and two small children, Zech and Stasi, who needed care. Margee stepped up and cared for them all. It was a terribly sad time in their lives. Margee was virtually alone for parts of it, while Dan worked in another state. The kids are almost grown up now, and Dan is working back here in Casper, but they still need each other very much.
Caregiving or helping to raise one’s grandchildren, can be very challenging, and it takes a special kind of person to do it. Margee has been such a blessing to us. As my mother-in-law’s Alzheimer’s has progressed, I don’t know how we could manage the needs of both her and my father-in-law, who has Emphysema, if we didn’t have Margee’s help. She is free during the day, when the doctors appointments are, and she doesn’t mind helping out. I know my mother-in-law enjoys the time with her sister too, though she doesn’t remember the visits once they are over. Still, we know, and we remind my mother-in-law…and we appreciate it very much.
Today is Margee’s birthday. I want to thank her for her dedicated service to her sister and brother-in-law at a time in their lives when they truly needed her help. That is love. I don’t know what we would have done without Margee…and I can’t say enough about how wonderful she has been. Thank you Margee for all you do and who you are. You mean so much to all of us. Happy birthday!! We love you!!
In big families, the younger children have the potential to become aunts and uncles at an early age. This can happen in families where there are a number of years between the children too. Sometimes, in fact, children can be born as aunts and uncles, which I suppose could be even more strange to think about. My younger sisters were were already old hands at being aunts at the time my girls were born, as my older sister had 3 children by that time. My youngest sister, Allyn became an aunt when she was the ripe old age of 8 years, in 1971, and so had been an aunt for 4 years by the time Corrie was born in 1975.
My in-laws basically had 3 separate families, since there were 7 years between Bob and his sister Jennifer, and another 5 between his youngest sister, Brenda and his brother, Ron. Ron was a whopping 7 years old when he first became and uncle. And my daughter, 
Amy’s youngest brother-in-law was 3 when he became uncle to her daughter, Shai. These kids grew up almost more like cousins or brothers and sisters than uncles to their nieces.They pretty much don’t remember a time where they weren’t uncles.
My father-in-law’s sister Marian had 8 children, and her youngest son is younger than his nephew, her daughter Kathy’s son. I’m sure that would be odd to think about, if it weren’t just the way it was. I suppose when you are born an uncle or aunt, it never occurs to you that you might be a bit different from your friends, who like my daughters became aunts when they were both married adults.
I’m quite certain that most people just think, “Well, that is the way it is.” And they would be right. You can’t control when you become an aunt or uncle. That is simply not your choice to make. And to most people it is an exciting and joyful time in their lives. But, that 
is not always the case. Bob’s Aunt Linda was quite a bit younger than my mother-in-law. Fifteen years, in fact. And my mother-in-law would marry my father-in-law just 2 1/2 years after Linda was born. When my sister-in-law, Marlyce came along 13 months after their marriage, Linda was just 3 1/2 years old. She was just getting to an age where she knew what she wanted and what she did not want. When they came to Linda and told her that she was an aunt, Linda immediately started crying. They were shocked by such a reaction, and when they asked her what was wrong, she said, through her tears, “I don’t want to be one of those ant guys!!!” Poor little thing thought she was going to turn into a bug!
My mom was a New Year’s Baby, born on January 1st, but too late to be the first baby for that year. Nevertheless, hers would always be a special birthday, and would make for a special party every year for as long as I can remember. We have always gathered at Mom’s house for food socialising, dancing, and of course the annual ringing in the new year with the family beating on old pans with spoons and firecrackers going off in the street. The neighbors don’t usually even attempt to go to sleep until we have notified them of the new year. Then the “happy new year” kisses come, followed by the “happy birthdays” to my mom and the phone begins to ring with friends and family calling Mom, because they know she will be up.
Mom was the middle sister…the 5th child out of 9, leaving 4 on either side of her…3 sisters, a brother, my mom, a brother, and 3 sisters. So she was the middle sister out of all the kids and between her brothers…a fact that got her into trouble more than once, as she and her brothers managed to get into a lot of mischief. They were the three musketeers of mischief so to speak, and Mom thought the world of her brothers. She would willingly defend then against any foe…except her mom, after one incident that earned her a spanking of equal or greater intensity than the one that my Uncle Larry received.
As a beautiful young woman, she caught the eye of a man she had decided was “the most handsome man she had ever seen” and before long they were married and starting their “forever after” together. Dad always treated Mom like a princess, and theirs was a beautiful, solid marriage that would produce 5 daughters…and a family that has grown to 58 and counting. Dad called Mom, Doll from the beginning, and I don’t remember him ever calling her anything else, in fact I thought that was her name when I was little. Their marriage would last 54 years before my dad when home to be with the Lord…a day that changed our lives forever.
Today, is my mom’s birthday…the 5th since Dad went home. We had her big New Year’s Eve party last night, carrying on with the tradition started so many years ago. In years past there were often times when there were friends of my parents there, or their 
brothers and sisters, but mostly now the party consists of my sister, me, and our families, along with various boyfriends as they come and go. We always have a good time, and the party usually breaks up about 3:00, and we drag ourselves home to bed, because the party will continue with New Year’s dinner and cake, ice cream and gifts to follow. Simply a great way to celebrate your birthday, I think. Happy birthday Mom!! We love you!!
There are few things that touch your heart more than a person who is so selfless that they would give away a car to someone who needs it. Most of our family was in on what would have to be the best kept secret of the decade. Elizabeth had it on her heart to give her car to her mother, my sister Cheryl, as soon as she bought herself another car to replace the Grand Am she would be giving to Cheryl on Christmas morning.
About 2 weeks before Christmas, she found the Jeep she was looking for. Now the biggest problem was making sure no one spilled the beans, and that Cheryl didn’t know about Liz’s new Jeep. Everyone who was in on the secret did their part, and while it was hard, it went off without a hitch. Liz simply drove the Grand Am whenever she was to be around Cheryl, and we did our very best not to look like grinning idiots.
It was very hard. We were all so excited about this particular secret. I can’t think of a Christmas secret that could get us excited like this had managed to. I found myself walking around smiling every time I thought about the look that would be on my sister’s face this special Christmas morning. I think I was more excited for my sister than for any other part of Christmas.
Cheryl raised her kids as a single mom for most of their lives, and there were some tough times in those years. She did her very best, and a lot of times that meant giving up things you might need for yourself s the kids had what they needed. That fact never escaped Liz’s notice, and she wanted to do something as special for her mom. And Liz, I can say, without doubt…you succeeded.
Bob and I got the privilege of arriving at my mom’s house at the same time as Cheryl did…driving her new car. She was still in a state of stunned disbelief…like living in a dream. Her face was radiant…a reflection of the beautiful outpouring of love that Liz had bestowed on her that morning.
There is no way to thank someone enough for such a selfless gift, but Liz knows that she will be as blessed as Cheryl was because of this beautiful gift. Liz, you are a wonderful person. Your loving kindness brings a tear to many eyes today. Tears of joy at the blessing you have given your mom. It will never be forgotten.
I was born the second of 5 girls, with no brothers. For 3 years it would be just my older sister, Cheryl and me, and I am blessed enough to say, “She loved me!” While there would be years when Cheryl and I would fight like cats and dogs, most of our lives have been lived as good friends. Cheryl loved being the big sister, and I always looked up to her. Somehow, she was always the cool one, with a sense of class and sophistication, and I was…well, not. I was much more shy, and awkward, except when it came to gymnastics. I could do that without trouble, but when it came to being one of the kids that fit in with the crowd, I just really didn’t. I guess I was more of a geek, and these days that is cool, but it wasn’t back then.
As I said, I did well in gymnastics and pretty much anything else like that. When Cheryl and I were little, probably about 3 and 1, I could crawl as fast as many kids could run. Mom has movies of me crawling across the floor, and Cheryl trying to keep up by crawling along beside me, but after quickly losing ground, she would have to get up and run to catch up with me. Then she would try to crawl again and would get behind again. The movies look pretty funny. It was the one place I could beat her I guess.
For most of our lives, it didn’t matter who had the upper hand, except in our teenage years, when it didn’t matter what we did, it always ended up in a fight. I’m quite sure it was because I was smart alecky, but I’m not admitting to anything like that, so don’t quote me on it. I will say that I had the ability to be a little aggravating, and my poor sister, Cheryl had to deal with that a lot.
Nevertheless, as the years have gone by, I have learned the value of such a wonderful sister as mine. When the going gets tough, you can always count on her to be there for you. She possesses a quiet strength and an ability to move past irritations and on to peace. That is a wonderful quality, and one I wish I had. I watch her and how she does things, and I try to run my life like she does. I am not saying that she never gets annoyed, or even downright angry, but she is much quicker to move past that and on to peace than I have been able to do. She is my mentor in so many ways, and a role model that I can always respect. And Cheryl, “I love you too!!”
