Rocket Surgery


Do you ever say things, but they didn’t come out exactly as you had planned? One of my daughters, Jenn (actually both) did often as a child, she mixed 2 sayings into one – often. Rocket surgery was but one; still makes me chuckle.

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Usually used when I was helping with math homework. “It’s not rocket surgery, Momma”;. Immediately followed by, “When will Daddy be home”?

 

My other daughter, Juli; well,  if she didn’t know the words, she would just make up her own.  Once she officiated a marriage, she “married” my husband and I, at age 4. Complete with a gown she hand crafted, a very creative soul she is.

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It went something like this:

Howie, do you take Jessica to be your awfully bledded wife? As long as she lives.

Precious she was. (still is)

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When our youngest was born, she was certain we should watch her “extension cord” carefully. Always the caring sister.

Juli & Jenn

Juli & Jenn

As I was driving home from the dental hygiene clinic today (Jenn is a student hygienist), I was thinking how fast she has grown; and how funny she was as a child, though she was sure she wasn’t funny at all. She would try to memorize jokes, from the elephant joke book bought at the school book sale, in  an effort to be as funny as her older siblings.

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Juli was a natural princess actress and wasn’t about to lose her crown, she didn’t find Jenn amusing most days…on the other hand, Juli’s rendition of Marilyn Monroe’s ‘Happy Birthday, Mr. President ‘ was a hard act to follow.

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Aah, the memories they provided.

Be well,

Jess

 

 

An Ode to My Sisters…


Sisters, biologically speaking I have two older, two younger. Metaphorically speaking ~ I have many.

Sisters, a closeness, a bond that only sister get to experience. You love them dearly at times, disagree fiercely other times…Sisters annoy, interfere, and criticize. Indulge in epoch silent resentment, in fits of anger, in spiteful remarks. They borrow. They break.

But if a calamity should ensue, sisters are there. Defending you by any means available. They see you at your worst moments, your shining moments, and love you through all of them. She might be your partner in crime, your midnight confidant, someone who knows you, really knows you. She is your teacher, your defense attorney, your personal press agent, sometimes even your therapist.

Sisters ~ We’ve fought, we’ve made up. We’ve laughed at jokes, until milk came out or nose, that no one else would understand. We’ve said some mean things to each other, yet we’ve defended and protected each other when others won’t. We did some of the strangest and perhaps silliest things together and there’s so many stories to be shared when we are together.

Some of my sisters, have a mutually shared passion, some a bond so close it may never be severed, even with all of the changes and shifts life brings. Some of us share secrets we will take to the grave and never tell another. Some have taught me about about life…quite often the hard way.

Sisters, we all have roles; roles we were sure we could have let go with the passing of childhood – the baby, the peacekeeper, the caretaker, the fixer…. It doesn’t seem to matter how much time has elapsed, how far apart we live, how much has happened in our lives… no matter what we choose to make of this, we are, if by fortune or fate, connected our whole lives long. It may seem, to the rest of the world, we are older and (maybe) wiser; but, to each other we are still the same girls who made perfume from weeds and berries, tried to save kittens (not so effectively), who “trimmed” her sister’s hair, walked with for miles so that she could see her boyfriend, protected from the thieves of innocence.. clambered through waste deep snow, suit case in hand… laughing all the way, yet by passing the snowmobile that could have been our saving grace…and later, helped each other through troubled marriages,relationships, and financial hardships.

Sisters; we know each other as we always were. We know each other’s hearts. We share jokes. We remember quarrels and secrets, troubles and joys. We live outside the touch of time.

I think of sisters as flowers; all different, yet all beautiful.
Do you have “sister” stories, you would want to share? Subscribe, and post your thought…I’d love to read them.
Be well,
Jess