Sharon and I have always been close sisters, but there was a whole lot of yelling, screaming, door slamming, scratching and hitting in the early years before we got to be the best of friends. Honestly, when we were growing up, Sharon and I couldn’t stand each other half the time, and we’ve got the scars, emotional and physical, to prove it. Nonetheless, we slept in the same room (even though we each had our own) until we were 10 and 12. We were always so different, oil and water, but we were perpetually in each other’s pockets.
I don’t know exactly when that change took place, but when I left for college, I think we realized how much we missed each other and decided to give the bickering and tattling a rest. Then in 2003 I moved to England and was gone for nearly seven years, returning only for holidays or quick vacations. This was hard for two sisters, but we stayed in touch with the wonders of e-mail, Facebook, Skype, Vonage and webcams. But of course, there’s no substitute for hanging out.
Now that I am back in the States, Sharon and I are getting together as often as possible. And trust me, if you knew Sharon, you’d want to see her as often as possible too. She makes me laugh harder than anyone—ever. Belly laugh until your sides hurt kind of funny. And she’s also honest. Whenever I don’t know where I’m going in my life (like now), Sharon can lay it to me straight, like no one else. I trust her opinion more than I trust my own. She’s the kind of friend you want to have: hilarious and fun, but a good listener who honestly wants to give you the best advice possible. She’s always been wise beyond her years.
So this weekend Sharon came to NYC to visit me for a couple days, a trip originally planned around other events, but we were overjoyed as those other events were either cancelled or postponed, giving us a couple days to ourselves. One of our favorite things to do is what we call “coffee walks.” It’s just what it sounds like, long early-morning walks, with coffee in hand. So we did that a lot, walking through Central Park and talking, laughing over inside jokes, creating new inside jokes, talking about serious life issues—where we’re headed, what we’re doing, what we want from life. It was just what we both needed.
Of course the other thing we love doing together is cooking. So it was off to Union Square Farmer’s Market to check out the goods and see what we could make for dinner. So many things attracted us, but we couldn’t seem to put together anything that made sense. We picked up yellow squash, some gorgeous tomatoes, a pint of cherries and a loaf of rustic Italian bread . . . . Well, when in doubt make a toasted sandwich. So we stopped by the market on the way home and purchased a few extra ingredients to make this beautiful thing, which we served with sautéed squash (a la my grandmother’s recipe) and had cherries for dessert. All served with a lovely bottle of red. How we ever got from rabidly fighting over a pair of jeans to this kind of civility, I’ll never know. But that food, plus my sister (and the 20/20 special on Michael Jackson) amounted to an evening of perfection.
A great tribute to sisterhood. My sister and I fought horribly as well. People used to think something was wrong with and would tell our mother that we needed to go to counseling. That bad. And yes, I’ve got a scar or two myself. But now we’re the best of friends. Who’ve thunk?
I already know you, so I completely understand half of the equation. After having met Sharon, I can now say I know exactly what you mean. Like I said that afternoon, one can instantly tell you’re sisters. I see the ways that you’re alike as well as the things that make each of you unique, and it’s as much the differences as it is the similarities that bind you together.
I have no sister, but my mom is my Sharon. And yes, sometimes it’s like she’s the younger one, but for us, it just works. I love that no one can make my mom laugh the way I do, and no one else can instantly soften me into a pile of four-year-old clinging goo like my mama. Any day spent with her is a perfect day to me.
Although, of course, I’ve never had to fight my mom over jeans. I’d never fit in those size zeros anyway. 🙂
Dear Maggy,
A mother could hope for nothing more. My work is done. Amen. Mom
I can totally understand this story. My sister and I use to fight growing up as well but now we can’t get enough of each other. She is truely my best friend and confidant.
I love your story of sisterhood and how you two weathered it 🙂 My sisters are much…much younger than me so I have so waiting to do on some of those connections. Delicious Sister Sandwich as well!
I have 7 sisters (no brothers) and i can imagine my parents having a similar comment to Pam’s. We fought like cats and dogs growing up, but now i consider them all my closest friends. it makes me feel very blessed.
yummy looking sandwich, by the way!!!
Wow… this really touched me as this is the story of my older sister and I. People who knew us both as teenagers are floored that we even speak as adults let alone are best friends! We lived together as adults for several years and miss it soo much. Distance separates us right now but we still talk a couple times a day! Thanks for sharing this. (From another Sharon! )
I have just returned from my yearly sister retreat—I have 5 of them—-and you wouldn’t believe we are sisters. Three of us are in the same generation, I call it, and the other 3 were raised by the older 3. But, we put all age and differences aside when it comes to getting together. There is never a time when someone isn’t laughing or acting out. We also have 4 brothers, but they are not invited….yet. Thanks for this post, it’s priceless.