The younger of my sisters . . .

I decided last week that these five words have the power to bring me to my knees faster than any others right now . . .


The younger of my sisters


They don't look very scary, but the emotions they are capable of instantly bringing to the front of me are tremendouse. Which is odd, as I generally am a person that feels little at this point in my life.

Oh, I feel love for my children and spouse, concern for family members, etc. But as we go through life and get hurt along the way we subconsously build little walls of protection. Sounds like a good thing, and I think it is to a degree.


But if we don't re-evaluate our walls at some times you end up in your 40s or 50s with walls so thick you can bearly remember what REAL emotion -- the kind without walls -- felt like.

As it turns out, the wall around China didn't fall, it just relocated. Over the years I've found nothing really shakes me up any more. Kid moving out? See you later. Mother disinheriting you? One less person to buy presents for. Lost your job? Get another one. Car broke down out of the blue? Oh, well, we'll stay home or walk.

But those five little words almost brought me to my knees the first time I said them after Becky's death. "The younger of my sisters . . . ".

I was raised with two sisters and two brothers; all younger than me. Every time I'd refer to them, I'd use their age in proximately to each other to identify them for strangers. "The older of my sisters works in a nursing home." "The younger of my sisters has two children and is a stay-at-home mom." The day after I learned of Becky's death I was talking to my friend about the arrangements and how things were being handled and I was telling her that Byjo, the younger of my sisters . . .

Then it dawns on me that Byjo is now my only sister.

As bad as it hurts you would think I wouldn't have uttered them again. And yet through the next week of visiting family, the funeral, and coming to terms with my new life they kept popping out. I've never noticed this tendency towards self-flagellation before; so I can only assume the expression is so common to me I didn't realize how often I used it.

My sister, Byjo, and I decided we would officially adopt our Aunt Cindy so we could keep the quota of two sisters . . . but even as we joked about it I knew it would never work. The older of my sisters has always been Becky; and it always will.