Peaches and Cream and LPs... The Condensed History of Two Sisters

You know... I consider myself somewhat of a lucky broad. I'm so grateful for so many things in my life. I really am. Some more than others, of course, but I still try to count my blessings as often as possible. I have a wonderful marriage, healthy, amazing kids, a cute, (albeit little) roof over our heads, food on the table, a good job (When people have money to spend on their hair), great friends, a loving family... and my relationship with my Sister. That relationship has topped my list for as long as I can remember, and saved me so many times... I cannot even begin to count. I, honestly, don't know how I would have made it through my life without her. She is my best friend, my source of support and hysterical laughter, my shoulder and ear, my sissy/soneji... and for that I will consider myself forever blessed.

 When I was little (Eons and eons ago...) I constantly begged my Mom for a Sister. I named EVERY baby doll 'Sissy', and was relentless. I wanted a damn Sister. Thankfully, I hit the motherload when my Mom got knocked up with Morgan. I was almost 3 when she was born, and I actually have some recollection of it. I hovered over that baby like she was my own. I remember flipping out on other kids when they would hold her... or even look at her. She was mine. My partner in crime. (But that 'crime' part didn't come to fruition till much, much later...) :) For the most part... I was smitten with her. I could feed her, haul her around, help get her dressed, pick out her outfits... you know... she was my living baby doll. It was my favorite! :) But then... people stopped paying attention to me. (Which, if you know me at all, you know didn't go over well) She was the darling, little, baby... with the curly hair and chubby cheeks, and I was just... the 3 year old. What!? Hello? Remember me?! I'm the one that was here first!! And so it begins....

We moved around a lot during the first few years of our lives. She was my only constant. She thought I was funny, and hung on every word I said. (I mean... wouldn't you?) :) I dressed her up in doll clothes and did her hair. (yes, I started early. Perhaps it is my calling?) :) I taught her stuff, we snuck treats together, and collapsed into uncontrollable giggles over absolutely nothing. (We still do that... and we jump/perculate for hoooouuurrss... right, Morn?) :) We stuck up for each other... becoming completely enraged at our parents for yelling at the other one for something, and we held hands... a lot. Our parents dressed us in matching clothes (Thanks for that). We spent our days painting nails, singing Kenny Loggins into hair brushes with Mom, playing outside,  and we were one, big, happy, family. I got my Sister... holla at your girl :)

We finally settled into a teenie, tiny house in Minneapolis. I was almost 5, and she was 2. I started Kindergarten, and was becoming a 'big girl'. We still were besties at home... but I got a little taste of what it is like to be just me... outside of the home. I was making friends, and she wasn't old enough to do all the things I could, and wanted to, do. We still revolved around her nap time and schedule. I got a lot of "No, Salina. I can't bring you to Jane's house right now... your Sister is sleeping."s and I wasn't too thrilled. Again... I was here first! She and my Mom would walk to get me every day after school. She was always so excited to see me. She would run to me and hug the shit outta my leg, when I was saying "bye" to all my new friends. I started to resent the fact that everywhere I went.... there she was.

By the time I finished kindergarten, my Sister and I had been through the unthinkable. We went through something that is one of every parent's worst nightmares. We were violated by someone we all trusted. We had no idea the impact it would have on us... for the rest of our lives. I couldn't save her, and felt like I had failed her. That was a game changer in my 'I wanna be solo' attitude... and from there on out, I had her back... no matter what. You will not fuck with my Sister. Or you will deal with me. Nobody will ever understand that overwhelming feeling of protectiveness. No matter how I try to explain it. It's so on...

Things got kinda weird in our family after that, for many years. We spent most of our time in our basement... playing Barbies, and doing little girl stuff. We were back to being inseparable, and we went pretty much everywhere together. (I wasn't letting her outta my sight...) :) She was Ken... and I was Peaches and Cream Barbie. (Which happened to be the Barbie she got for HER birthday.... but she was the prettiest one... so I just... well... you know... I got to be her. Again, I was here first.) :) She started to become a person... and I liked her. We had neighborhood friends by then, and she didn't always want to join us in our shenanigans. She was pretty attached to our Mom, and didn't have a real adventurous side yet. She didn't want to play kickball... or climb trees... or play night games. Kick the Can was out of the question. :) She loved to yell sing, and had become a little character, though... so when we would put out a sheet/dance floor, in front of the tv, on Friday nights... she would dance and sing her little heart out to the songs on Solid Gold. (And the theme song to "The Greatest American Hero") We had a blast together.

Things continued in that fashion for quite a while. I was busy with an active social life, and she hung out at home, with our Mom. (I'm making her sound like a freakish homebody... she did have friends... and left the house from time to time... I swear. Just not as often as I did. It's still that way...) :) Life had mended itself for the time being, and we were back to being one happy(ish) family. We had buried (Or.... swept under the rug) the past, and we were moving on. And then, suddenly, we were physically moving on... to Edina? A foreign city, that we were not looking forward to blending into. Will we fit in? Isn't everyone there rich and snotty? Are we really moving? What about our friends? Ugh... Thanks Mom and Dad. Jr. High isn't hard enough as it is... let's just add insult to injury, how 'bout...

So... We moved. I sat in my closet for a week... she cried a bunch. But... we still had each other. Thank God. Barbie was a thing of the past... and New Kids on the Block had entered our lives. We wore bras and talked about boys. (Talked a lot... about boys...) We were 4 years apart in school, so we never got to do that part of life together. She was still in elementary school... and I was in 8th grade. We got acclimated fairly quickly, and began to 'blend in' as best we could. I made some really awesome friends right away... with whom I'm still in contact. :) She made a group of good friends as well. She got picked on a lot, however... and it made me mental. I remember going to her school, and staring down kids as they mocked my Sister. Don't you know!? You don't get to fuck with her! Things have been hard enough! Assholes. I made many threatening phone calls, and a few more threatening appearances... but it didn't really help. Once again... I failed her. Something has got to give...

My new friends were awesome to her, and she started to hang with us more and more. By the time she was 12... we would take her glasses from her, make up her face, stuff her bra... and take her with us (Blind and naive) to parties. I got her drunk for the first time, and took her to the lakes with me. Our schools were connected, so my friends and I would go pull her out of school when we were leaving (Unbeknownst to our parents... She had many Dentist appointments... and my 15 year old self was taking her? They bought it... and off we went. Naughty). I introduced her to hot boys from other cities, colored her hair blond, included her in everything, and had my partner in crime back. I even made her change what kind of undies she sported. Boys don't like 'Granny Panties' (Or... GPs)... and that is what is important in life. Right? :)  We took to buying each other what we called 'lucky panties'. 'LPs'. The more stripperish, the better. Tiny, made of string and bling, butt floss. Every birthday and Christmas... we exchanged LPs. (I still have a few of them... for old school, good measure) She was no longer tattling on me to Mom and Dad... because she was with me, and wearing tiny undies. It was a win-win. :) I was still getting straight As, and ended up having a darling (Mmmm hhhmmm) boyfriend. (Yeah... he tricked me...) :) She and I had a lot of fun, and things were good... for a minute.

Meanwhile... back at the ranch...

Our 'happy' family had started to fall apart. Things from the past had reared their ugly heads, and my parents had begun to loathe each other. My Mom was sleeping on the couch, my Dad was angry 24/7... and my Sister and I were teenagers. Hormonal, emotional, teenage girls. Can you imagine the stress level? Holy shit. You could have cut the tension with a knife most days. To make matters worse, she and I had grown into ourselves. We became darling overnight, and there were suddenly lots of boys. Stemming from issues in our past... we definitely struggled with how to deal with that. So... we just... went crazy. Our poor parents. On top of their foul, failing marriage... they had to deal with 2 unruly girls, who had some serious anger and men issues. For the love... ugh. We spent many nights crying on my bed, and solving the world's problems. We were in this together, and we were our main support. None of our friends understood... like we understood. I'm surprised any of them even talked to us at this point. We became even closer, and our bond was what helped us through the next few brutal years.

Our parents divorced when I was 17 and she was 14. It was the beginning of what we remember as... Hell. I took my Dad's side, and moved in with him. My Sister and Mom were living together, and my Mom was losing it. We lost a loooong list of people during that time, including my Grandpa Bud, and Morgan's best friend Henry. He was murdered. It was swell... :( She still cries about it. I'll never forget that phone call. My Mom's best friend and her 3 daughters were killed in a plane crash (The pilot was a man my Mom had recently dated, and flown all over with...) They were our second family, and I'm not sure any of us have even dealt with that. I will leave out a bunch of terrible things that happened... just because it is just too much... but trust me... it was a brutal 5 or 6 years. Nonstop tragedy and turmoil. Rape, money issues, family issues, depression, my 'dark period'. I believe there were even... dog fights? In St. Paul? Somewhere in there, anyway. :) But... the thing is... we had each other. During all of the 'Hell' years, we still found reasons to laugh. Reasons to be happy, and things for which to be grateful. (We reached... believe me... but we made it happen) :) We always joke about finding our inner Polyanna. Sometimes even that bitch won't cut it. :) We still bought LPs, and still sat on beds and laughed. It was how we coped.

Somehow, in the aftermath of all of that madness... we both ended up ok. We only carry some of that with us in life... once again, denial and selective memory work wonders. :) We both married amazing, hard working, kind, hot, only children. (Who needs another Sister anyway?) We both did that fairly young. We both have a beautiful Son and Daughter, and we love each others kids like our own. We, of course,  helped each other deliver all 4 children. I even got to don scrubs, and be in the room for her c-section. We can't do that stuff without one another. It just ain't happenin'. :) She is the first person I call in the morning, and the only person who knows as much about me... as I do. Our Husbands have never really understood our relationship. Only a few of our closest friends even get it. We have our own language, and voices we use while speaking of certain things. We can laugh about the dumbest shit... for hours, and speak in broken sentences. Cuz... "I know what you are saying." I have to admit, I felt like I did my daughter a disservice when I didn't give her a Sister. She and her Brother are sooo close. I might even say 'besties', but it just can't be the same... can it? I never had a brother, so I'm not sure if it will ever be the same bond.  I do know one thing, though... I will do everything in my power to make sure they never have to go through what we did... to build that type of relationship. They will be besties... just because they are. Even trade? :)

People have said that every child in a home has a different 'childhood'. She saw everything from her own perspective, of course, and would maybe disagree with me on a few things. Like... the part when I said it was my 'calling' to do hair. You should have seen her bangs on any given day :) I will never know what it would have been like to go through my crazy life without Morgan. (Or my mom...) I look back at some of the shit storm that was our lives, and think how fortunate I am that things turned out the way they did. I literally am forever grateful. Even if LPs have turned into GPs... and we aren't the darling sissies we once were... and talking about boys has turned into convos about 'obeseness', (that's what we lovingly call obesity... cuz if you don't call it the real name... it can't be really happening... right?) wrinkles, bullies, health scares, dance, bills, husbands etc... we are still the same best friends who have been through the ringer and came out the other side. 2 girls that depend on each other, and are the only constants we will ever have. My Husband could leave me tomorrow (He won't... but... in theory... it could happen) and I'd still have Morgan. We can't stay mad at each other for more that 5 minutes... because we have something really important to tell each other that just can't wait. We don't agree on everything, but we always hear each other out. We cheer each other on through life. And, basically live by the saying "when life hands you lemons... call your Sister." I could go on and on... but I think you get the point. :)

A friend of mine with 2 daughters once asked me how my Sister and I are so close. Her girls are always at each others throats. I simply answered with this "It's never a guarantee that you will be close to your siblings. But... when you go through what we have together... there really isn't another option." End of story.

I Love you, Chunkin. Love, Punkin. :)