My sister and I were close growing up, but more in the
second mother sort of way. She took care of me, showed me life’s ropes, and
made sure we had a good time on the journey. When Chrissy babysat, it was
always an adventure. Instead of simply asking me what I wanted to eat, she
would create a menu containing my favorite items and have me check the box next
to my choice. We convinced mom to purchase every kind of spaghetti-o on the
market and ran a comprehensive taste test, complete with restaurant critique
style reviews. And she taught me to appreciate the finer things in life, like
butter on saltine crackers.
We loved to watch MTV together, back when it was actually
music television, and imagine how cool it would be to be a VJ. Chrissy's walls were covered with posters of Duran Duran and Adam Ant (I can still picture the one featuring an adroggynous Nick Rhodes in the bathtub with his wife). I owe a
considerable amount of my music knowledge to my big sister, who would quiz me
when songs came on the radio. If you’ve ever wondered why I am so completely
obsessed with the 80’s, well there you have it. I recently uncovered this
little gem while sorting through my mix tapes. Proof that our competitive
nature started early. If you listen closely, you can hear her say, "I can sing louder than you." But she doesn't. And of course I have to be the boss, saying, "That's enough" at the end.
At the tail end of this decade, we lost our paternal
grandfather. He and I were very close, and it was an unexpected and devastating
blow. My sister was in her second year of college and came in for the funeral.
That week a blizzard hit and she was stuck at home for an extra week. Our
maternal grandmother was staying with us and Chrissy and I had to share
a room. It was during this time (for reasons I honestly can’t remember) that we
started calling each other “Doodie”. She filled the emptiness of my grandfather’s
passing by making me laugh and showing me how to write messages with footprints
in the snow.
That's my favorite thing about my sister: her ability to
make me laugh. It is obvious that we share genes - strange, strange genes
(thanks, dad!). My children (and many of the kids I babysat over the years) are
familiar with the napkin moustache “You must pay the rent” routine, which I
learned from Chrissy. Anyone who knows her knows she has a wonderful and slightly twisted sense of humor. When we are together, belly laughs inevitably ensue, and
that has always been the case. I can’t imagine my childhood without her.
No comments:
Post a Comment