I just returned from a fun-filled weekend with three of my eight sisters. There was plenty of talking and hilarity as we enjoyed shopping, eating out, playing games, and drinking margaritas by the pool in my sister’s backyard. Even with husbands, children and grandchildren in the mix, our sisterly bond stands out as my fondest memory of the trip.
Growing up in a household filled with girls was great fun. I never lacked playmates or clothing I could borrow. My older sisters taught me how to dress and act, and my younger sister let me boss her around. We spent hours playing cards, board games, hide and seek, and pretend. Our house was noisy and sometimes filled with drama as we girls jockeyed for time in the single upstairs bathroom. I spent many years wearing hand-me-downs and fighting to be heard at the dinner table. I wouldn’t trade these times for any amount of money.
When we were kids, one of our favorite old movies was White Christmas with Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye. We girls especially loved a particular musical number called “Sisters” performed by Vera Ellen and Rosemary Clooney. It’s a somewhat tongue-in-cheek take on sisterly togetherness, and we memorized all the words, even performing it in our own living room on occasion.
After my daughter was born, and through the subsequent births of my two sons, I longed for my daughter to have a sister. I wanted her to have the special bond that sisters often share. In 2002, after much soul searching and two years of paperwork, my husband and I went to China and adopted our youngest child, a girl. Although my girls are 11 years apart, I know they will always be “such devoted sisters.”