This is my oldest sister. I miss her. I don't get to see her or talk to her enough. We're only 18 months apart, so we spent a lot of years in the same Young Women's groups, Sunday school classes, and overlapping groups of friends. We had long, really long, drives to seminary every morning, and equally long drives back home from school. We had this one tape, Milli Vanilli, (anyone remember them?) that we would sing at the top of our lungs. "Girl you know it's true, Ooo Ooo Ooo, I love You!" In the summers we tackled crossing the wake together, dropping a ski, then finally getting up on one ski. We would sit beside each other in church the next morning, with sunburns and whip lash, unable to turn and look at each other. We got into a lot of trouble together, like when she decided it was time I learned how to drive. It was on one of those long drives home from school, and my dad's pristine truck was a stick shift. I wasn't going to make the turn, so she helped me out a bit too much, into a barbed wire fence!
She's very different from me. She's driven, focused, and really good at what she does. She was a CPS worker, and now she's a mom. She's always learning new parenting techniques, and man, she's got skills. She pushes her body by running and lifting weights. She's got some serious guns!
My kids love to spend time with her because when she's with them, she's really present in their world. She clues in really quickly to what interests them. Here she's making a little drawing game for boy #3. She drew one picture that changed into a different one when you folded the paper and held it up to the light. He was amazed!
Here's my little sister. Everyone should have a little sister like her. She's cheerful and puts up with all kinds of bossiness, meddling and abuse. She's a gatherer of people, a shepherdess of sorts. She always has a group of girls she's taken under her wing. She's always organizing group sport, some clothing exchange, some club or other.
My, she was fun to raise. My husband was actually her first dance. Our rooms were next to each other's and during any emotional trauma, all we'd have to do is leave our door cracked open and let it all out. Quick as a flash, we'd be in each other's bed to talk it out and give comfort. We both are book worms, and we spent hours laying in bed with our feet at each other's heads plowing through our books. We shared a bathroom, and I really miss getting ready, putting on makeup and doing our hair together. Outside the temple on my wedding day, she cried because she knew she was losing me. I was so happy and excited, I thought she was just being silly. It was hard to imagine that part of life ending.
We still get to visit, and talk occasionally but it's never the same, is it?
It starts off innocently enough, children roaming a pumpkin field.
"Eew, there's slime on my hand! What kind of sick American custom is this?" Still pretty normal, but wait......
They break out the power tools. Pumpkin flesh and gore are flying.
We've got some inappropriate enthusiasm going on here.
I don't even know what to say about this one. Definitely inappropriate enthusiasm.
Is that his head in the pumpkin, you ask? Why, yes, yes it is.
There is just no explanation for this one. I guess it's a pumpkin swirley.
There was a method to their madness after all. Pretty impressive, eh?
We end our Family Home Evening with a nice, reverent family prayer. What this photo doesn't show is the pitched battle that's occurring on my lap. Elbows are jabbing, heads are jostling to claim prime real estate. All five are fighting, go ahead and count them!
