July 14, 2010
Magnolia asks me for a sister. At least once a week. Sometimes she asks for a twin and instead of going into the harsh reality of that not being a possibility, I grant her, her wish in fantasy. "A twin! How exciting that would be! What would her name be?" And in a perfect world, where I would not be considered a "geriatric mom", money grew under our feet, and I had the patience of a saint, a little sister (or brother) would be a wonderful gift (Calder is pushing for a brother, by the way). Three is the magic number you know. It is hard to explain to a four year old that sisters are not always the ones you are born into the same family with. I know this from experience. Sometimes a sister is a most precious gift of a person who you are not related by blood. She is the one who you can call on with a choke in your voice and tears in your eyes, about the sister you were not allowed to know. Who consoles you when your children have run amok and you are positive that you have scarred them for life. Who appreciates you and makes you want to shower her with gifts and laughter. I only hope that Magnolia finds "sisters" in life, like I have found mine.