Sorelle

Song for this post: "North of Lights End" ~ Raised by Swans

When I was 5 my parents bought a new refrigerator. It came in this huge box that my step dad put on the back porch with the intention of breaking it down and disposing of it. Of course, to me and my sister, it was a vehicle for an endless supply of games and imagination.

We begged for that box. Our parents caved and let us have it. We put it in our room next to the bunk beds. We cut out a door and windows that opened and closed. We colored the windows with "curtains." We put our tea sets and blankets and favorite books on the inside. We pretended we were the Boxcar Children. At night, after our mother put us to bed, we'd sneak out of our bunk-bed and into the box, pretending we were in a train car and travelling to somewhere exotic; where we could find an abandoned house and raise up our orphan brothers and sisters and catch our own food and sew our own clothes. We were VERY responsible siblings in that box.

We played in that box until it fell apart. We cried when our parents took the crumpled remains away.


For the most part, we've always been close, my sister and me. We've had our share of sister/sibling fights but, of course, we've always made up. She been one of my best friends since birth. In fact, when I was an infant she refused to let anyone hold me. She insisted I was hers.

See? She was destined to be an amazing mother since she was a toddler.

I'm headed back to my hometown this week for her birthday. She's 33 this year. She has a wonderful husband, 2 beautiful twin toddlers and a baby. A good chunk of the family lives within a mile of each other, grandparents, great grandparents, children. I'm excited to go home and get time with them all.

My sister and I love to sing. We got it from my mother who got it from my grandfather. We're a whole family of musicians. Someday I hope there's a time when we can all sit around a fire and sing together. Instead, right now, we're slowly recording music together. Multiple generations harmonizing on songs we love. It's a great gift to us all. I go into the studio with my beautiful sister this weekend. We'll be recording a song we've loved since we were little. I'm a little intimated. But so excited.

25 years later we're still going to create something together. It won't be made out of cardboard and we don't share a room anymore. But, for a little while, we get the chance to create a new little world together.

We're a lifetime away from the Boxcar Children and a busted up cardboard box in our room but I like to think her children will make up similar stories and have secret worlds only sisters can understand.

Happy birthday, Sissy.

I love you more than words can express.