This Reminds Me

We celebrated Sisters Day this weekend, to celebrate Julia’s one-year homecoming.  We’ve been talking about it for weeks, asking Julia, “What is Sisters Day?,” and prompting her reply of “When I came home from Russia.”

Walking up the driveway of her new “dom” after 27 hours of traveling on May 18, 2006.  Shelley and John picked us up (and took this picture).  Sarah had baked chicken ready, a welcome relief from our two-week steady diet of home-packed Costco snacks, local bread, cheese and apples.  Rachel, Lois and Hannah hovered anxiously in the doorway, having been warned not to storm Guanna-now-Julia.

We wanted to do something really special so, on the advice of my boss Sharon, we headed to The Antlers Friday afternoon.  Big fun!  Lots of outdoor activities, and weather so nice we actually had the windows open.  For my Hoosier cousins – that’s unusual, folks.  Lake LBJ was “up” from recent rains and too murky in which to swim, our only real disappointment.

Alas, we caught nothing but a few mosquito bites.  Dad gave casting lessons to all.  Rachel misread the bait pellet package aloud as, “Not for human constipation.”

I feared the weekend might morph into “just fun” with no real significance, so I asked the girls to each prepare three index cards – one for each of their sisters.  I asked them to list three things they sincerely liked about each of their sisters.  No silliness, no snide remarks.  I helped Julia with hers.

Julia’s card to Lois read:  “You ride bikes with me.  You help me with homework.  You play guitar.”  What’s not to like?!

Used by permission of the author:  Rachel’s card to Hannah, which I thought showed both insight and deliberation.

The girls read theor cards aloud to each other before dinner Saturday night.  We reflected on this past “gotcha” year, with several chuckles, plus a general anticipation of times to come.  Good times, stressful times, who knows?  Only God.  And thankfully, He doesn’t tell us ahead of time.

We “gotcha” Julia Guanna, we “gotcha.”

Our church family ministered to a gymful of Hurricana Katrina special needs evacuees in 2005, including several senior citizens barely rescued from rising flood waters.  I visited with one elderly lady in the wee hours of a still, deep velvet night, ingesting her stories of Naw’lins and the decades-long bond she shared with her slumbering friends.  She clutched her cup of hot tea and locked eyes with me as she spoke the words that had shaped her recent days:  “Darlin’, all we have is each other.”

Everyone needs someone.

And like my senior friend – we are happy to have each other.

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