Thursday, March 10, 2011

Sisterly Thoughts at 2 AM

I'm a night owl... always have been. I love the wee hours, the darkness and the quiet, a time when I can get things accomplished, when work happens quickly and efficiently.

My sister is like that too, maybe even more inclined than I to sleep in daylight hours and play at night. Fifteen years ago, when I lived in Seattle and ran a small bead business, she used to come to my house after she got off work at her second-shift job and we'd weigh or count, package and price beads I had bought in the Czech Republic. Good times, good memories of us chatting and working together from midnight until 3 or 4 AM. Her help and companionship were blessings to me in so many ways.

I always trusted her to know when to ask vs. when to make decisions on her own. She had an uncanny ability to question my decisions exactly when they were dubious. If I had a regular business with employees, I would hire her instantly and pay her top dollar.

Sadly, we've grown apart since those fun times together. She's married now with a grade-school-aged, adopted son. We still live in the same state, but not within easy visiting distance. I miss her, miss the closeness we had in beadland.

I'm the eldest in the family; she's the youngest. Sixteen years between us. For a long time, I was almost a mother figure in her life, maybe still am. Our mother worked full time, leaving me as her day-time babysitter during the summers. Often people thought she was my child.

After graduating HS, she moved into my home as a roommate, which sort of worked OK, except that we still had aspects of mother/daughter in our relationship. It wasn't until those nights of bead-sorting together, working together, that a more sisterly relationship finally emerged.

Both of us have food addiction issues. Both of us have struggled all our adult lives with obesity and diets. A few weeks ago when we talked on the phone, she said she needed to find a way to make a change, that her health was poor in several significant ways because of her weight and dismal eating habits. I told her about OA and suggested she give it a try.

I don't want to push her, knowing full well that it won't do any good. Yet, I love her so much and want the best for her, want her to find her way back from the death grip of addiction. I wish I knew how to help her.

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Today's gratitude: 53 degrees - yahooo, first motorcycle ride of the year - double yahoooo, my sister, my husband, deep purple crocus


  1. I think the best we can do is let people know we are there for them if they want to reach out to US. Seems that attempts to help are often misinterpreted and rebuffed and can backfire. But maybe you can build on the sisterly bond and really connect over this. Wish I had a sister:(

  2. haha. My husband and I were reminiscing about our bike ride to the Smokey Mountains just yesterday. Love to ride. Our bike is down--a squirrel ate the wires. Makes me laugh, but it a huge repair.

    I read your "About Me" entry. I could have written the same thing--word for word--except for the OA part.

    Although I did go for a few months decades ago. I liked it, but one woman took over the meeting every week. Had an expert complex. No one else could get a word in. I worked thru the stetps. I didn't quite have or gain the understanding that I do now about addiction. If I went again, it would be a richer experience, I'm sure.

    Hopefully, your sister will find her way to normal with food. (Hopefully, we all will.} She's lucky to have you.


  3. You're there for her. You know not to push anything on her, even if it's worked for you. That's the very best kind of help.

  4. I wish she could read your entry. I can just feel the deep love you have for her. I wonder if she knows how much you love her. What a big loving kind caring heart you have.

  5. I have three brothers, no sisters. I love my brothers dearly but I always wanted a sister and the close relationship I imagined we would have.

    One of my brothers has been through a tough few years, still is to some extent. I fully understand that feeling of wishing you could do something to help and hoping that your being there to support them when needed is going to be enough.

  6. I missed so much of your posts when I was in the Grand Canyon..... no connections there....
    Just catching up now!


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