I found this too-telling quote this morning: “Sisters never quite forgive each other for what happened when they were five.” ~Pam Brown
I have two precious sisters – Heather who turns 28 today and Savanah, who is 23. It is because of my sisters that I am so glad my children have siblings to share this crazy life with. For all the squabbling over “borrowed” (aka stolen ) clothing, drama and strife we three girls have shared, there has been so much joy.
We three (long ago dubbed the Morris Girls) love nothing more than to sit around and swap stories of our childhood. And we have some stories! In light of Heather’s birthday I want to recall for her one story in particular. While I know she has forgiven me, it will never, ever be forgotten. I am sure she recalls the incident each time she sees a playground, seesaws in particular.
When I was about 7, Heather was 5. We had a rather large backyard at the home we lived in at the time with a variety of play equipment including a white wooden seesaw. As we went out to play that sunny afternoon, my mom specifically handed out the warning to me, “DO NOT jump off of the seesaw while Heather is on the other end.” Okay Mom, sure. Sure . . .
I don’t know what prompted my idiocy. Well, I was seven, does a seven-year old’s idiocy need prompting? Regardless, there came a moment where I decided to do exactly what my mother had decreed that I NOT do – I jumped. With Heather innocently sitting on the other end. Disaster.
The next series of events were sort of blur, but when I jumped off, Heather’s mouth hit the seesaw. There was blood, there was screaming. I ran. I hid. I hid for hours in our wooden playhouse that my dad had built. I could hear my mom rush my sister to the minor emergency (where they determined that she (okay, I) had busted open that little connector piece of flesh on her top gums. Ouch. Then I heard people calling for me, searching the neighborhood in fact. All the while I hid in my corner literally facing a wasp nest that sat in the opposite corner. I would rather have faced the wasps than my mom!
Hours later I felt it was safe to return, and I stealthily tried to sneak back to the house and into my room, although I was intercepted by moy older cousin Dawn who assured me that my punishment was coming swiftly. Sigh. Ah, the memories.
Heather, scars and all – I love you. Happy Birthday! Your birth was a joy to me at age three, and it is a joy to me now. I love you!