Sisters

At the time I started time writing this, my sisters and I were celebrating the magical six weeks in the year when we are all the same age. This year, it’s six weeks of all being 49. That’s 49 49 and 49.

The three of us were all born in the same year.

It’s one my defining stories, the one that I’ve told all my life. I am one of three girls and we were all born in the same year. My older sister, M was born in February and then my twin, C and I came into the world prematurely in December.

Reactions to this story vary depending on who you tell it to. Those who haven’t had children hear the story of three children in one year and are astonished - kind of like seeing a dog who can do math. When you tell the story to those people who actually have children, their eyes widen and then they shake their head. Three girls.One year. Really?

Really. We all came into the world in the same magical year, and we’ve been travelling the same path ever since. Three little babies, three little toddlers, three little girls, three adolescents, three girls in college, three grown women with loves and families and lives of their own.

And in the hectic chaos of those daily lives, we don’t get to see each other as often as we would like. When that happens, I miss them terribly. I miss the chance to catch up with them, to share the news, to see how life is treating them. But the thing I miss the most is the chance to touch the shared tapestry of our past. I miss the way being with my sisters connects me to the stories, the history, the love of our family. Not just the love that we share today, but the love - in all it’s shapes and forms - that we all experienced growing up; the love that helped us to become the women we are today.

It wasn’t always easy growing up as one of three. It was sometimes hard to feel loved for the person that you were alone, rather than the person you were as it related to the others. We all sort of figured out our roles and where we had the chance to stand out, for good or bad. In finding our way in the family, we bumped up against each other and our parents. We fought, we laughed, we rebelled, and we aimed to please. We aimed to please a lot. We did all those things together, learned those lessons together, and when we are together now, all of that history is with us, helping us to understand ourselves in ways that we don't get with other people.

When I think of the journey that got me to where I am in my life, it’s impossible to imagine it without the presence of these two strong women by my side. In the laughter and the fights, in our competitiveness and in our love, always in love, they helped to shape who I am.

My sister M has now turned 50 and is once again the “eldest.” The next time we are all the same age we will all be 50. When I think of that fact, I realize that being a sister is a role that I have played all my life. My parents are both gone now - which is another part of our shared history. We’re no longer daughters, but of course we are sisters. And I hope we will be for a very long and healthy time.