the last day Ruth is 50

Dragon Mood? -- loving my sister

Tomorrow is my sister, Ruth's 51st birthday. Wow!

Ruth and I talk regularly. At least once a week, sometimes more. We are sisters, confidantes, sharers of family history, reminders of family events ("I just wanted to remind you that Josh is taking his test tomorrow") and chief cheerleaders for one another as we each face our challenges.

We do a lot of remembering and reminiscing. We remember our mom and her mom, Nana, laughing at some of their foibles and antics, waxing philosophically on some of their troubling behaviors. We talk about how we miss them. I tell her how I recall a certain event and she tells me how she saw it. It's always an amazing thing, what people remember, what they don't and even how different our perceptions of a shared event can be. Ruth remembers little details that, if I ever noticed them, I have long since forgotten. I can recall environments and physical layouts of places. She remembers things and objects far more than I do.

We talk about aging parents. We talk about how people change as they age, some gracefully, some not so gracefully. We question each other on our own aging. Will I be like that? Promise me you'll tell me if I ever do that! We talk about all the aunts and uncles that formed this hallowed circle around us as children, who are now in their late seventies and early eighties. Mom and Aunt Flora are gone. Who will be next?

We listen to one another about our fears, our annoyances, our jobs. Neither of us is particularly happy or challenged in our current jobs. We listen empathetically to one another about our partner/spouse and the challenges of long-term relationships. She offers advice to me about S and her stress-filled job. I encourage her to be patient with Paul as he struggles in a depressing job that was supposed to be "laid back."

We encourage each other to eat healthy, exercise regularly, take care of ourselves -- "go get that checked out by the doctor, promise me?" And, when we're both feeling particularly vulnerable about our health and unknown lifespan, we joke about Dad outliving us both -- and laugh heartily.

We tell each other things that no one else knows. Sometimes, the questions and their answers feel disturbing because they're just so damn intimate ... can they bear the light of day and potential for scrutiny? Can these confidences bear being voiced out loud?

That's when the essence of sisterhood becomes clear. I trust Ruth with a deep, implicit trust that really has no bounds. She's always been there, she's always been my ally and I know that she always wants the very best for me. She loves me in a deep, knowing way that I experience as true and profound. God blesses me with a sister like Ruth. Not all people have sisters or siblings who care like she does. I don't take her for granted. She is a gift to me.

And so, on this last day of my dear sister as a 50 year-old, I give thanks for her presence in my life. Happy Birthday, Ruth! I love you!