AARP Hearing Center
I used to joke that I hit the sister lottery. I grew up in a house in Georgia with four bedrooms, one bathroom and seven girls running around — six sisters and me — plus two brothers. It was loud and chaotic, and we had to kind of duke it out for bathroom time. One of my sisters once said, famously, “We have too many people in this house.” We all laughed at the understatement.
We ran the gamut of personalities and ages. My oldest sister, Annette, was 18 years older than my youngest sister, Belinda, and was in college by the time I was aware of her as part of my sisterhood. After she got married and moved away, she seemed more like an aunt when she came home to visit. She was so stylish — I was dazzled by her fabulous clothes. Belinda was five years younger than me, and I thought she was a spoiled younger sister, while she viewed me as her “know-it-all” older sister.
Our relationships have shifted over time, and we’ve had bumpy periods, but there’s nothing like the people who shared your upbringing — your bunk bed, your clothes, your fights, your secrets. It’s interesting how selective our memories are, though. I remember sneaking clothes from Tina’s closet and her being absolutely furious. She swears she doesn’t remember that. We all have our own versions of the same childhood.
As I grew older, my career took me in different directions, and my sisters scattered, with two in Miami, two in Texas, and two in Georgia. We weren’t always as connected as we could be, and I faulted myself for that. But life happens.
Harder times
Annette developed early-onset dementia and passed away four years ago. Before that, Janet — my rock — was diagnosed with breast cancer. I occasionally flew to Miami to sit with her during chemo, and, thankfully, she’s thriving now. More recently, Tina, who never smoked a day in her life, was diagnosed with lung cancer. We rallied around her, and when she finished a round of treatment in 2023, we threw a sister slumber party in Georgia. (My brother Jackie came for part of the weekend; he was like an honorary sister.) We had matching pajamas and lots of laughter — it was one of the most special weekends of my life.
I’ll never forget Tina saying, through tears, “I just want to thank you all. This means so much to me.”
We’ve had other heartbreaks. We lost Bennie Ruth years ago to breast cancer, complicated by alcoholism and mental illness — things we didn’t know how to talk about back then. We’ve lost both brothers; Jackie passed away this year, following a stroke. The more you have, the more you can lose. That’s the hard truth. And maybe that’s why we’re hanging on tighter now.
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