Oh Sister

Ellen and I never competed.

I never tried because i knew she would always win despite being younger by five years.

Life divided us in many ways and now with one of the many inexplicable gifts God has bestowed, our fragile relationship has blossomed again

We are both of a certain age; old to be brutally frank. And now both residents of senior residences in separate parts of our beloved country.

Ellen and Frank, are blessed (after 69 years together) to still share their world. They were 19 the year they took their vows in the same chapel where Art and I had asked for God’s blessing several years earlier.

The Christmas gift I received from my sister could almost make me forget last month’s bout with Covid,

I love Ellen’s gifts, They are always unpredictable yet so appropriate for their timing.

One remembered Christmas she arrived with a mammoth tin of Carr’s water biscuits. Her gift brought back the years when a box of Uneeda biscuits seemed to solve all my adolescent problems especially accompanied by a steaming cup of hot tea.

The water biscuits helped (during a year of our children’s broken bones and incessant throat infections) to erase some of the tension while striving to maintain sanity as a young wife, struggling Mother and disappointing daughter.

However, I believe Ellen’s most memorable gift was the one she gave me the day I buried my beloved.

As we walked away from his grave, my sister arriving unexpectedly from another state, emerged to take my hand and lead me to begin a life alone.

No words were spoken, None were needed because she knew my pain.

Now although we are both far from 450 W 58th St. somehow I believe we are closer than ever before and the gift we both share is that knowledge.