Of all my sisters, Denise and I are the closest. We have shared so many adventures together. But it’s too bad that as we grow older, we grow apart.
She has become the quintessential housekeeper, the involved mother, the gourmet chef. She’s the Martha Stewart of our family. She entertains, and you don’t want to miss her parties. Seriously, you really don’t.
Her home is amazing--she’s so creative it’s nearly sickening. Her home is clean, designed for comfort, and unique. And I love her for it.
As kids we got into a heap of trouble. I can’t go into it all here, (must protect the innocent, you know). Still, I smile when I remember trying to ride donkeys at an old farm, parties at the house when mom and dad were away, and dancing up a storm at the clubs downtown.
I miss those days, but I then again, I don’t. I don’t think I could handle a bumpy ride on a bucking donkey now. No more parties--I have my own home and I know what my parents went through to maintain theirs. And the way I dance just wouldn’t fly at the downtown clubs these days.
Sad to say, Denise and I don’t see each other as often. It happens when you move away and raise a family. You concerns are for your own, and siblings get reprioritized. Though we call weekly to catch up, we still can’t relive our glory days. Joke about them, cry about them—sure, but never again will we take risks that would put us in harm’s way or cause us to lose what we now hold so dear. We must be getting old.
I respect her as a mother, wife, woman of the world. And yet I want my sister back. Is that possible? Or perhaps it happens in a more subtle way when I’m hitting the panic button the night before a big party. She’ll give me a step by step, knowing how soiree-challenged I am. I’ve marinated asparagus, folded napkins, and redecorated my bathroom over the phone with her. But it seems kind of insulting after all we’ve been through to relegate her meaningfulness in my life to just someone to call when I’m DIYing the catering. I truly miss the idea of sitting down without interruption and really, really finding out what’s going on with her. I am begging all you dear sisters, never let the women out of your life, not without a fight.
Ever miss someone so badly that you taste the bitterness of yearning?
I swear, one of these days I’ll kidnap her, grab a bottle of cheap red, a pizza, and a donkey--and we’re all gonna dance. |
Bernadette Sukley |
| About the author: |
| Bernadette Sukley has written, edited, fact checked for nearly 20 years. Her topics range from health to sports and lifestyle, from human interest to hard news. Her work has appeared in Men’s Health, Sports Illustrated for Women, and ABROAD magazines. Currently polishing up 3 novels for publication, she welcomes discussions on women and literature.
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