
My sweet sister passed away two years ago. I miss her. Ours is a strange and unusual family, you all know us, right? So I'm going to share part of my strange and unusual relationship with Sharon.
Imagine a four year old Gena standing on a kitchen chair rinsing and stacking dishes while a nine year old Marianne washed. Gena looks up and sees three children, Jalyn, Edwin and Norman, running across the lawn with their parents, Jay and Sharon, close behind. All she could think of was the mess of toys she had to clean up after they left.
Gena: "Here comes that bossy woman with her kids again!" (Sharon did tell me what to do... a lot)
Marianne: (with lofty disdain), "Don't you talk about our sister like that!"
Gena: (belligerently) "Who's our sister?!"
Marianne: (rolling her eyes) "Sharon's our sister!"
Gena: (growing indignant) "She is not!"
Marianne: (insert what you know this would sound like) "Go ask Mom!"
Yeah, turns out Sharon WAS my sister. I was so incensed! Why hadn't anyone ever told me? This explained a lot. I mean, why would my Mom let one of her friends tell me what to do so much?
As one of the "grown ups" I enjoyed getting to know Sharon as a sister. I realized we were so alike in many ways. I love her and I miss her.