My Sisters!

I've written a few posts about some of my favorite people--some of my friends, my brother, my mother-in-law, various other family members.  But I haven't written about two very important people in my life--my sisters.

They each deserve pages and pages written about them; they are so wonderful.  But I couldn't decide which one to start with.  Therefore, I am writing today about both of them.  They are truly here for me all the time.

I know not everyone is as lucky as I am to have such wonderful friends who are also supportive sisters.  If I could give anyone the best gift they could ever imagine, it would be to have sisters as superb as I have.  I actually feel bad for those people who don't have a good relationship with their sisters or if they don't have a sister at all.   I am lucky.  I am blessed.

I think God knew I needed these two special people--these two sisters.  He knew I needed them from the get-go.  You see, I was the last of four kids.  So I was lucky enough to have them and my brother from day one.  And I am still lucky to have them.

They all have influenced me so much.   Most of my childhood memories include my siblings especially Lana.  She is the sister who is the other part of "the little girls' (the way we were collectively referred to growing up).  She is only 19 months older than I am.  So really, I pushed her out of the baby bed and baby position in the family.  I was the baby then (and forever more--Baby Sue!)

Oh, but what a wonderful companion I had growing up.  Sure, we fought a bunch.  But we also played a lot--a built in playmate until she had to go to school, for heavens sake.  That left me playing alone--so I took up playing with the wooden spools Mom would give me when they were emptied from her sewing machine.  They were fun, but I missed my sister/playmate.

As typical girls, we played a lot with dolls.  We had Toni dolls.  We didn't have Barbies though.  But the Toni dolls were wonderful--complete with dresses and some accessories.  Not quite like the American Girl Dolls which my girls had.  Of course, my girls only had one doll each, the book that went with the doll, and the outfit that came with her.  Now I think you can spend a small fortune on those dolls and their accessories.

But we loved playing with our Toni dolls as well as our baby dolls.  Oh, the hours we played together.  We played so well with each other--until we didn't.  Then one of us would holler, "Mama, she did ....."  I'm not sure how Mama settled all those fights but she did and we would forgive, forget, and play again.  When things were good, we would willingly share our dolls and toys; when things went foul, we became selfish and possessive--like I said, we were typical kids.

But sharing was basically mandatory for us--sharing clothes, sharing a bedroom, sharing the double bed, sharing the back seat on trips.  Once again, when it was good, it was very good.  And then not so much.  Imaginary lines were drawn separating our spaces in the bed and the car.   And not so imaginary complaints were made to the chief referee, Mom, and if she weren't readily available, we took our grievances to Lynda.

Nevertheless, we grew out of the daily fights and into a close grown-up relationship.  I admire her so much.  She not only is smart, kind, and giving, she is also a picture of stylish perfection. She is always impeccably dressed from head to toe.  And here is the astonishing part--her toes even have pedicures in the WINTER!

Yes, she is absolutely the epitome of style.  Classic and beautiful.  But that's not all--it goes inward as well. 

Plus, she still shares--she shares her advice, her make-up tips, her clothing tips.  But most importantly she shares her support of me.  She is there when I'm upset, discouraged, overwhelmed, lonesome, or happy.  She is always there for me.  Man, she is wonderful.

And so is my other sister, Lynda.  I am doubly blessed and I know it. 

Lynda wasn't my playmate, but she was my idol.  As I was growing up, she was far enough ahead of me that I knew her in a different way from Lana.  When I was entering first grade, she was entering 9th grade.  Interest levels at that time were a little different to say the least.

But I was so in awe of her (and I still am).  She was and is so kind, loving, and supportive even during those teen-age years (hers and mine!)  Actually, she helped raise me.  She apologetically says she was bossy.  I disagree--she was helpful and loving.

She helped me with growing up which was more than just "helping raise" me;  I could ask her questions and she would kindly answer.  She continues to help me grow as I continue to ask her questions.  She has always been so wise in her counsel to me and surely I have bent her ear for hours yet she continues to be attentive and caring.  She weighs her words carefully and so beautifully encourages me as I need it.  She sees the best in me and makes me want to believe her belief in me.  Does that make sense? 

She makes life sensible--the aches, the pains, the happy times.  It's almost like I can throw to her a bunch of numbers and she can make the formula.  She can sort it out.  I love the way she can interpret things--whether it is my issues, or political, religious, or social issues.  She can think it out and put it into logical sentences.  She is brilliant. 

I'm not sure how she came to the decision to go to Ouachita for college, but because of her brilliance and high respect in our family, she unknowingly set the standard for all of us.  And I must say that her standard was high, thankfully.  She majored in French and English; she was a beauty queen; she taught school; she married a most wonderful man; she continued her studies and earned a doctorate degree in French no less and she became a college professor.  What an example.  She did all this while being a wonderful mother and pastor's wife.

I followed her lead and went to Ouachita; I majored in English and took a lot of French; I taught school; and I married a wonderful man.  Well, that's as far as I got.  I wasn't a beauty queen and I didn't earn an advanced degree.  But I have always been so proud of her accomplishments which she got through hard work and persistence.   She was never one who shirked hard work. 

What we might have lacked in actual closeness while I was a small child, we have more than made up for it now.  We have grown so close as adults.  We are best of friends and what a gift it has been for me.    Her husband has referred to us as "bookends."  My husband has often referred to us and some of our similar behaviors as "genetics."  We talk and talk.  We laugh and laugh.  It doesn't take too long in any conversation--either in person or on the phone--to hear the hearty sound of infectious laughter coming from our direction.  It makes me smile just thinking about it.

She makes me smile thinking about her any time.  Tomorrow is her birthday--that really makes me smile and it really makes me thank God for her tomorrow and everyday!  She is a jewel.


See what I mean?  I am indeed lucky to have these two as my best friends and sisters. 

Lucky and blessed.

Thinking on My Feet with Kids

This morning was my Music and Movement Time with the three and four year olds at the Dayschool.  I had a CD that I burned with a couple of Greg and Steve's songs on them.   For those of you who aren't up on the preschool music these days, Greg and Steve are a couple of guys who have made quite a living singing and playing the guitars for children. 

I am sure when these musicians were teens or even young adults that they envisioned making it big in the music industry.  I am sure they hoped to make and sell enough of their music to support themselves and perhaps a family.  What I doubt is that they planned on making it big with the littlest of listeners.  But they have.

They have over 20 CDs; they've been nominated for a Grammy award; and they have received "Parent Choice" awards.  So I guess you can say that they are doing okay.

Nevertheless, I had a very energetic time with these preschoolers stretching, bending, and dancing to their music this morning.  The musician (Greg or Steve, not sure which) would tell us how to move while they were playing their guitars.  You had to listen to know what to do.  I had started with the oldest two classes which was good because they did pretty well on listening.  I knew after experiencing this with them what might happen when I got to the three year olds.  

Those three's were into the moving part for sure.  Uh, now, the listening part was a little off for a some of them.  But we made it through the first song and then came the "thinking of my feet" part.  I knew that the second part that I had done with the older ones would not go to well with these guys.  So I went for the "freeze dance"--you know dance and move until the music stops and then freeze.  

The song was "Shoe Fly" so the children (and me) tiptoed, swam, and jumped to the music.  They got on (pretty much) to the freeze part and enjoyed all the motions.  When it came to the crawling, I dropped to my knees and began crawling.  Yes, I crawled.  All the kids loved it and started crawling too.  I figured they would just crawl around on the carpet, but when I looked around they were following me!  After a bit, I crawled to the CD player to turn it off so they could "freeze." I turned it off and at the same time I glanced over my shoulder. 

It was the funniest sight.  It looked like a bunch of ants circling a piece of candy and I was the candy!  All of those cuties were bunched up on their hands and knee inches behind me.  Too funny.

But that's the way it is when working with kids.  You gotta enjoy the moment and think fast when the moment goes awry.   And if all else fails, get down on your hands and knees and crawl!

Growing Old with Jane

She doesn’t know me.  I don’t really know her, but here I am growing old with her.  Jane Fonda appeared on the Today Show this morning buzzing about her new book, Being a Teen.  Of course, she looked gorgeous and young.  During the interview there was a reference to her last book about growing older called Prime Time.  So I looked it up on Amazon, being more interested in this part of life than the teen-aged years.

The reviews for Prime Time were good so I put it in my Amazon cart, but I haven’t bought it (yet).  I must tell you that I still have the Jane Fonda workout book--you know the one with her in her leotard and leggings.  It’s the huge coffee table version, too.  (No, I don’t have it on the coffee table any more.)  I also had at least one of the videos of her workout sessions.  It was a video, so you know it’s an old one.  And I did that video many times with Jane.

Like I said, Jane and I are together--mind and body.  Of course, my body in reality is not the body in my mind and it certainly isn’t a Jane body.  But it is relatively healthy.  For that I am extremely grateful. 

Recently, though, I have been reflecting and saying that I wish I had my old body back.  I’d take the one I had in my 40’s or even the one in my 50’s.  Something has happened in the last 7-8 years and it’s not pretty.  And it’s not Jane-like. 

I remember years ago my sister made this comment, “I yam what I yam” quoting none other than “Popeye.”  So every once in awhile when I get discouraged about not having the body of my youth, I think of what she said way back then and justify my present day body by saying that.  Now, I must tell you that this same sister still has her college days figure. 

Then I also hooked into the segment that the Today Show had on last week called, “Love Your Selfie.”  I love my body, I love my body, I love my body.  I love my body.  I heard if you say something often enough, then it’s true.  Oh yes, my body could be a lot worse. I am not obese.  I am tall and have skinny legs and a skinny behind.  I can hide that thick tummy a little.  So there.  I love my selfie. 

Who cares if Jane’s body looks the same as it did in that leotard--I guess it does--she didn’t have one on today.  She is a movie star for heaven’s sake.  She has to look good, right?  Therefore, how can she possibly understand the rest of us.

Well, although Jane looks fabulous, she addresses more than looks in that book of hers that I plan on buying.  The subtitle  is “Love, health, sex, fitness, friendship, spirit; Making the most of all of your life.”  Ok, Jane, I’m with you again.   There is more to getting older than the way I look.  I’m into refocusing on all those other things.

On Amazon, there is a letter from Jane in the Editorial Review of her book.  I'm sure she is just writing to me, but you can read it.  Evidently it is from an out of print or unavailable edition.  

In this letter she makes an interesting metaphor about growing older.  She explains how the familiar comparison of life is to that of an arch (I see the St. Louis Arch) starting with birth, then growing up as children; the top of the arch depicts us peaking as middle-aged adults, and then the down-hill part of the arch is the last years of our lives.  I think of that last leg of the arch as a fast slide, don’t you? 

However, Jane's metaphor was more appealing to me.  It was of an image of a staircase, continuing upward until the end.  I like that image;  I like that I don’t see the end of the staircase.  And I like that I don't see that I have peaked and now going down hill.  I know the end of the staircase exists--it's there but not right here, you know what I mean?  I was a late-bloomer growing up, so I like to think I am still blooming and the end of the staircase is a ways away.

I like this upwards image though; it presents the idea to me that we can still grow as we live--it's not over.  She calls it “an upward ascension until the end.”  I certainly don't feel like my life is over.  I'm as busy now as ever just not on one single job.  I like being busy.

And I don't mind the getting older thing.  Despite a few more aches and pains, not seeing or hearing quite as well, and taking a little longer to get up off the floor, I don't feel like I'm old.  I even think I don't look that old--until I look in the mirror.  Let me tell you, that's no Jane Fonda looking back at me.  But it's okay.  It's me and "I yam what I yam."

Now I do appreciate the fact that there are ways to make the most of my life past 60.  That’s where I think I can learn some from Jane's book.  Probably most of the things in her book are things that I already know, but reading and focusing on these things should help me regroup.

Ok.  I’m in, Jane.  I’m buying the book.  I gonna read that book.  I'm gonna do all of that good stuff and make the most of my life.  But right now, I gonna go to bed.  I'm tired.

Later, Jane.