Wow

When I was little, my sister told me that I was adopted. She said my parents found me floating down the sewer on a piece of cabbage. I am sure her adoptive daughter Linsi will truly enjoy this story. My sister, Kathie, also told me when I was little that if I did #1 & #2 at the same time, I would die. I remember the first time I did, I cried and yelled for my mom. When I told my mom what had happened and what my sister had told me, she thought that was the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard. (She just got pissed off - did not "console" me.) Growing up and not being able to pronounce my "r's" or "s's", my big sister, was always there to interpret what I was trying to say. Today, when we're together, she is still trying to interpret for me. We are soooo different, yet, these childhood memories keep us sharing stories to tell to our own children. My sister and I bonded when our father died. He died at home. In the bedroom where his hospital bed was set up, there was also a day bed, and a recliner. The night before the morning of our father's death, my sister and I slept together on that day bed. First time in years we've slept together. 4 years later when our brother died, me and Kathie found ourselves crying in each others' arms, condoling one another. We also dealt with his death with laughter. At the funeral home, where he laid in his coffin, for whatever reason, his face was all puggy. We tried to fix it for we told our mother he looked like a chipmunk. Our mother said, "what would he think of you two now"? Our reply, he's probably laughing his head off at us. I miss Mike, and my dad, but the funny thing is, the "things" I remember are pretty much all the good things, all the good times, all the remarkably beautiful funny things which our dad and our brother did to make us laugh, to make us smile, to make us part of who we are.