I didn't grow up with any sisters, I have brothers and men who are like my brothers. No somewhat mystical bonds of womanhood that date back to a time when I was pre-verbal. No one to steal my clothes, my boyfriends or commiserate with over ice cream and Teen Beat.
It is a need so specific that I didn't even miss it until I got older. I didn't meet my sisters upon their birth or mine, as is the normal way of things. I met them well into my thirties, clickety-clacking away in a cyberspace steno pool. They revealed themselves to me at a time when my desire for the company of men had subsided to such a degree that I opened my eyes and saw them for the first time.
Sheli, who can be so strong and reminds me of myself in so many ways. Her ability to grow and love and laugh at herself and at me has meant the world.
Heather is the woman I always thought I'd be when I grew up. To know her is to know the best of my own intentions.
Stephanie who looks for (and often sees) the best in all of us. She never ceases to amaze me with her ability to live with all that passion.
Vernia, who's talent for everything makes me strive to be as good just at one. She is a force and a confidant.
They would laugh probably to read this. See, we all like to get together and rail on ourselves sometimes. The years, the pounds, the decisions that took us places we didn't intend to go. But they should know, that whatever path led them to to the place they are now is a path that I am endlessly grateful for.
andee