You are my memories

debra and me

 

So, it has occurred to me that my two most recent posts had to do with my two youngest sisters.  I have one more sister and it would not be right to not tell her story…

My sister, Debra, is less than four years younger than me.  My earliest memory is of her.  I was three and half and very much an only child.  I was not a brave child.  I spent every night climbing into my mother’s bed in the middle of the night crying for her attention.  Suddenly, my world turned upside-down!  For the first time I was spending the night at the home of my Uncle Pat and Aunt Evelyn and two cousins, Patricia and Nancy.

I can still see myself sitting on their living room floor watching The Beverly Hillbilly’s on a black and white TV.  My Aunt was rocking my youngest cousin, Nancy, to sleep.  Then my other cousin, Patricia, who had just made four-years-old was next.  I had not been rocked to sleep to my memory; but, when my cousins were in bed and my aunt asked if I would like to be rocked, I just nodded my head.  I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep and then was carried off to bed.

Sometime during the night I awoke.  I was not at my house.  I had no mother’s bed nearby to crawl into.  I began to cry.  My aunt took me to the restroom and gently but firmly told me I had to go to sleep.

I remember being in my pajamas in the morning, eating breakfast and seeing my dad throw open the door.  I was so glad to see him!  He had a huge smile on his face and he picked me up and hugged me.  I was told that I had a sister.  I don’t think I knew what that meant!

I remember being home just dad and I the next night.  He asked if I wanted to telephone mom.  I nodded yes.  He picked up the telephone and dialed the hospital.  Before I could talk to mom, he hung up the phone and said the nurse said she was sleeping.  Then mom finally came home!  I was so glad to see her.  I remember seeing her in bed, she had long dark hair and looked a little pale.  She was holding a small baby; I remember thinking it looked like one of my dolls.  I wanted to crawl into her bed, but I was told she had to feed the baby;  I was standing at her bedroom door when it was closed.

Being so little myself, I saw my little sister as somewhat of a bother.  I was not allowed back in mom and dad’s bed.  I had to take a back seat to this little person who certainly did not seem friendly- always crying and demanding mom’s attention!

I did not appreciate the special connection that had just taken place in my life.  We shared a mother and a father.  We shared blood, genes, and eye color.  We shared a room and secrets.  We shared vacations, clothes, toys….the list goes on and on. We fought – a lot.  She was brave and strong.  She was not interested in climbing out of bed to cry and run to mother; she was busting out of her baby bed and running out of the house! She was the tomboy, fighting and playing outside.  I could not understand her – but our bond was unique and everlasting.

We had very different likes and personalities, but sharing a room with someone for ten plus years forever imprints them on your heart.

I had two more sisters much later.  Some of my memories include my other two sisters.   ALL OF MY MEMORIES include my eldest, youngest sister, Debra.

My mother and father are two very strong, hard-headed people.  My sisters and I had no choice in receiving those genes!  Debra is the strongest.  She left home after she graduated high school and joined the Navy.  She worked overseas for four years and returned home to marry and receive a nursing degree.  She has raised two very fine boys.

When you are little, you don’t realize the impact people have on you.  My sister, Debra, was always making me strive to be a little bit more strong, a little bit more athletic, a little bit more brave.  I never took the time to say thank you and appreciate her qualities.

So thank you Debra for sharing in my memories!  They are good memories made better because they were shared with you!

C’est Bon,

Love,

Sherry

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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