I always wished that I had a sister. Brothers are okay and all….mine have been there through the toughest of times with me, and the younger years were MIGHTY tough. They tormented me beyond belief as little boys will do when bored out of their skulls in the country. They are 3 and 6 years younger than me, respectively. Sucked to be me at age 13. I’m just sayin’.

My girl cousins became my sisters over those years of non-negotiable family time. Holidays were where we strutted our girl stuff. The closest of these to me were Deb and Mo, and they still are. We’ve all been married and divorced and lost and married and….well, you get the picture. The bonds have survived the funeral homes and the doling out of the heirlooms. Sandy and Ninky were girls there with us, though a bit younger.

I remember a particularly hilarious time when Deb and I ganged up on the younger generation of Mo and Tom to make them our playthings. It was New Year’s Day at Gaga’s house and we felt compelled to entertain the masses. The lil’ kids were too little to object, much. Sooooo…..we put an oversized diaper on T to make him the “New Year’s Baby” and a Dixie cup on Mo’s head to make her the princess. Princess of what, I’m not exactly sure, but she needed a part. Boy did she play it well!!

Each family member plays a role in the drama that is kinship and heritage,often times not by DNA but via shared experiences and a choice to love and remain connected. I consider myself fortunate to have the memories. I’ll do my best to keep them alive.

Gotta run! One of the cats got locked in the attic when I went looking for Dixie cup pictures ;)