Perhaps it was because we were born and raised on a farm and so any trip into the "big city" of even just St. Albert was mind numbingly exciting. Or, perhaps it had something to do with the fact that my mother was raised with a set of younger twin brothers and she was trying to force friendships to form amongst her own kids.
Whatever the reasoning behind it was, at the age of 21 and living away from my family, I realize just how important those years were.
My mother had implemented the "buddy system" in our family. Whenever we did anything, we did it in pairs. Until I was 19, I shared a room with my next oldest sister and we were always the best of friends, but it would have been too easy for my mom to make my best friend my buddy... so I got my youngest sister Katie.
We grew to be very tight. I coached her basketball team, soccer team, and sat with her through piano and then fiddle lessons. I drove to and from sports practices and games, we did the dishes together every second night or would fool around on the trampoline if we weren't on kitchen duty. When she started competing in fiddle gigs and competitions, I took up the guitar so that I could accompany her rather than the old man that would always be there (who really couldn't keep time if you clapped it into his deaf ear). When we went camping, in the middle of the night and pouring rain when she had to go to the bathroom, it was me she would get up. Each Christmas eve, it was my bed she would crawl into at 3:30 in the morning or when she had a bad dream or just didn't feel like sleeping upstairs.
When I told her that I was moving into residence, she sat on my bed, in my lap crying until we decided to make smoothies. She helped me pack and then helped me unpack. On my new twin size bed, she was the one who insisted that I couldn't sleep the first night by myself and that she was going to be the one to stay with me... curled up on the small bed.
When I shared the news of the cancer with my parents, they thought it would be best to refrain from telling my youngest two sisters... Katie included. However, when Chantelle heard something at school, my parents finally sat down with Katie (grade 9) and my graduating high school sister to tell them what was going on.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the world, I am heading back to HUB to take a nap before an evening meeting.
My cell phone rings...
"Hello"
"Angela, what are you doing... right now?"
"Ummm... going into my room. What are you doing right now?"
"Like right now? You are going into your room... right now?"
"Yes Katie, can you hear my keys?" (as I shake them by the phone)
"
“Sure thing. I will call you when I am 10 minutes out.”
“Kay.”
The bus pulls into the transit station and there, getting out of my next oldest sister’s car, is Katie. Heading over to the car, I get there just in time to hear Katie say, “Thank you for the ride – I will call you when I am ready to be picked up.” Closing the car door and turning to me, with a smile and twinkle in her eye she says, “So… where are we going so that you can buy me a hot chocolate?”
Now although this is my youngest sister, she is tall. Like almost as tall as I am. Sitting drinking our hot chocolates, at the age of just 13, she is sitting in my lap. I have no idea what others in the restaurant thought, but it didn’t matter. When I finally told her that she was too heavy and had to get off, she sat down beside me – like right beside me.
With our hot drinks finished, I went to stand up and she reached into her backpack. She pulled out this small stuffed, Precious Moments lion that we bought her when she broke her arm. Her voice wavering, lip quivering, and tears in her eyes, she handed me the lion saying, “I want you to have him. Lions are brave and strong and if you are going to beat this, you will have to be to.”
I couldn’t say anything. My eyes filled with tears as we began the silent walk back, arm in arm, to the transit station.
My mother tried to create an unbreakable friendship, and she has done just that. While I have not seen her in almost a month, I get emails almost daily with jokes, pictures, or just an update of what she did that day – with subject lines like, “to make u laugh” or “luv u!”
And, on the absolutely lousy days where it takes what seems to be every ounce of strength to sit up and eat something, get out of bed and start the day, I need to remember to be strong. Those nights when I feel overwhelmed, exhausted, and frightened, crying in the pillow, I need to remember to be courageous… as tough as it may be.
Thank God for sisters.
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