A Sister Never Forgets

Posted in Monthly at 2:13 pm by Pasha

By Pasha Carroll

They sat there chatting, their tongues in rapid fire. Memories oozed from them like old photographs scattering in the wind.

When my mother and her oldest sister, Carol, came together for the first time in more than a decade, it was like the days between then and now had never passed. I laid back into my mother’s leather sofa and listened to all of their stories. The tales came one after the other; about grandfathers I never knew, about the grandmother I knew well and lost; stories about the women that the sisters knew as mom.

I heard about the weinheimer dog, Rex Van Bralla, that was given to little Lynn for her birthday, and then given away to a family in Virginia. It seems Rex had a penchant for digging up cherry trees and jumping up on the Bralla girls. My mother said she cried and couldn’t understand, at 8-years-old she didn’t understand such things, she only knew Rex was her dog.

Mom and Aunt Carol told me about my great grandpa Charles; how he would be into the booze early and take an inner tube out into the canal. When the barges came by my great grandmother would have a fit, screaming for him to come in.

My imagination produced the grand houses with wrap-around porches and wide green lawns that came out of the deep memories of the sisters. I saw Great Aunt Marty, who died before she turned 40, in the laughter and memories that Carol and mom shared. I could see them getting into Aunt Marty’s makeup, sliding down and old banister, and becoming best friends with their cousins Marita and Lisa.

In their voices, they bared their souls. I felt the connection that only comes with being sisters, with sharing childhoods, with sharing mothers and fathers. I saw myself and my sisters sharing a distant memory when we reach 60 and 70. They are the things that are only shared between sisters.

Each day of their visit Aunt Carol and mom spoke of days another missed: Carol regaling memories before my mother was born and my mother remembering the two years before her mother passed, sending the memory along to Aunt Carol as if she too had shared the special time. No matter how much time has passed they spoke as though they were still children, still teenagers, still young mothers and daughters, and always, forever, sisters


Negative What?

Posted in Monthly at 12:45 pm by Pasha