My sisters

 Yesterday morning I took a walk with Marianne.  (The three of us can walk together, we proved it Monday evening with a walk.). We talked and cried and laughed and explained and walked.  When the three of us were growing up and getting ready for school, we would ask each other.  “Does this look OK?”  “Does this work?”  “How about this?”

We could count on each other to tell the truth.

Now we do a version of the same thing.  When we talk, we reveal our worries and fears.  “Am I OK?”  “Is what I’m doing working?” “How about this?”

We still tell each other the truth.  And the truth is a version of, “You’ve got this and you are doing great.”

We convened at our dad’s again yesterday and went through our mother’s drawers.  More sorting and contemplating.  We moved to the kitchen table with the jewelry.  There were many things that our dad had made our mom over the years.  There was also a bracelet he gave her when they were high school sweethearts and a few other sentimental pieces our dad kept.  We selected some things for our sisters-in-law and made a granddaughter pile.  We divided the rest.  Marianne made a system (of course she did—we need her).  We each got a little stack of treasures; some had been our grandma’s and some our dear mother’s.

Olivia was crying at the end when she was boxing up stuff.  Our dad said, “Are you up for this?”

She said she was.  We are, even though we aren’t.  It is a paradox that this is too hard, but since we’re together, we can.

Marianne and Olivia came over for lunch and then a little later in the afternoon, our mom’s friend Merry and Demar’s wife, our aunt Lora, came because they wanted to visit and talk to us about our mom.  It was lovely.  They wanted to hear about our memories of her as a mother, if we were like her, what we’d learned from her and about her marriage to our dad.  I loved talking about it all and I loved that Olivia recorded what we were saying too.  Merry and Lora are two women my mom loved so much and it was good for all of us to connect and remember.

We all wish we were more like our mother.  Olivia and I were talking last night and decided that maybe (maybe) the three of us combined on our best day could come close.