My sister died a month ago. A sibling dying is not an inconsequential event, for anyone. For me, it was deep. You see, she was ten years older than I, so she was also a mother figure for me. Actually, she was better than a mother. I'll give you an example.
When I was ten years old, I told my sister about a boy I liked (Not to my mother!) We looked his name up in the phone book. (How's that for a nostalgic journey?) We found his family name and address. We got in the car and drove by his house. That's it. That's all. But what mother would do that? Only sisters do those things.
Another favorite memory I have of my sister is a Christmas memory. We both loved to color. Whenever I was sick, she bought me a new coloring book. It seemed I was always sick with measles, chicken pox, asthma, colds, and even a ruptured appendix! And of course, Santa always brought new crayons and coloring books. Christmas night, we loved to put all the lights off in the living room, except for the Christmas tree lights. Then we would crawl under the Christmas tree and color with our new crayons and books.
It was magical!
Before dementia stole my sister from me, we sent each other birthday cards. Since my birthday was a couple of weeks before hers, whatever type of card she sent me, I would reciprocate by bumping it up a notch. If she sent me a lovey-dovey, mushy Happy Birthday Dear Sister, I would send her the most grandiose "lovey-dovey", mushy card. If she sent me a funny card, I reciprocated with a real zinger.
Recalling old memories leaves a sense of warm nostalgia. Reminiscing leads me to tell you something important.
School starts in a couple of weeks, and when I took my grands to buy school supplies, I found myself staring at all the Crayola products.
Mmmm. Yes, I did it.
I bought the biggest box of crayons the store sold, and an adult coloring book. While we checked out our purchases, I took out my personal items and brought them home.
As I colored that night, I thought of the many types of prayers that everyone offers. And I thought that sometimes... sometimes, the best prayers are those that are offered up in color.
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