We traveled home to my Auntie’s this weekend and enjoyed an afternoon visiting and sharing a meal. On our way home we drove past my Grandma’s house and my head filled with memories of childhood and adulthood spent in her home. Grandma had seven children, two boys and five girls. My Mom and her sisters had a bond that was unbreakable. It was amazing seeing them all together as close they were. They were best friends.
I remembered the kitchen wall and it’s many layers of wallpaper. It may seem strange all the memories of my childhood coming down to a wall. But, this was not just any wall this was our own wailing wall. Growing up we knew when one of the sisters was having a difficult time in life because a special trip was made to Grandma’s and wallpaper was purchased. All of us children went in the front room while the sisters set to task on the wall.
Grandma would turn on the record player and Nat King Cole would carry through the house. The sisters would make daiquiri’s and discuss the current situation. As they discussed, they changed the wallpaper on the wall. It was as if that wall took all their pain and hardship at the time and helped heal the wound. Grandma would come in and check on us kids and dance with us to the music. She loved Nat King Cole and said his voice was that of an angel. We strung beads and buttons, talked and colored in coloring books while the sisters worked together through life. You know there was a time the girls decided to see just how many layers were on that wall, it was at least ten if I remember correctly.
I cannot count on one hand the number of times the sisters spent the afternoon sipping iced tea and playing canasta. My sister and I were able to sit in and play once we were old enough and we were given a clothes pin to hold our cards. We loved being a part of it all. Holidays and anniversaries with the girls in the kitchen and the men in the living room. Weekends spent with everyone and walking around town. Sitting in the back room listening to Mom, Grandma and my Aunties talking. Somehow, they all spoke at once, all stopped at once, answered or responded to each other then began the cycle again. I can still hear the buzz of their voices while they conversed and shared their thoughts.
Mom and her sisters went on vacations together on their own and vacations with their mom. They loved treating their mom to time away and it being just the girls. The sisters shared their lives, hearts, secrets, triumphs, heartaches and regrets. I remember thinking how strong they all were together and the strength they drew from that bond and that love. Mom and her sisters stood by each other through everything. We all learned the importance of family and the strength of family. My first friends were my cousins, we lived in each other’s back pockets. This was a gift from our mom’s who spent so much time with each other and truly embraced sisterhood. The art of sisterhood is inspiring and amazing!