There are some memories that just never seem to fade away when you have a sister.
For me, my sister Lynda Kay was often a teacher. When I was learning how to walk, I think she could usually be found at my side, perhaps giving me a few pointers. I’ve mentioned this before but I have to mention it again, my sister was the first one who taught me how to read, doing it one night with our television on and The Beatles appearing on The Ed Sullivan Show while she was doing it. I might have been distracted that time, but I learned to read all too well.
To me, she was a bit of a lifesaver. I remember a trip my mother, sister, and I took to visit relatives in Tennessee and Maryland in the summer of 1968, going swimming somewhere around Chesapeake Bay, and me dropping down into a hole as I was walking along in the water, suddenly totally submerged. It was my sister who quickly pulled me out.
We went on that trip that summer while our Mom took a break on a doctor’s advice from caring for my brother Curtis, Lynda Kay’s twin, who was born with cerebral palsy. Curtis would pass away in September of that year.
I remember battles with my sister over music. I remember battles over little things. But we’d always make up. It was being able to make up after sibling squabbles that would help to carry us through much bigger things that our little family faced in the years we shared.
We made it through.
I recall corresponding many times with my sister after she got married and moved away in her late teens, through letters or cards, being asked to pray for her to help her through challenges she was facing. We managed to stay relatively close despite the many miles separating us.
I remember taking her to meet an Amtrak train in Pocatello, Idaho, one night and having the train she needed to catch end up being a couple of hours late. We spent that time in the parking lot of the train station, sitting in my car, catching up on our talking time, reconnecting with each other, opening up with our feelings. That was a special time.
Today is a special time for her. Had he lived, it would have been a special time for my brother Curtis as well.
Happy birthday, big sis.
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