I talked to my sister today. Not for long, but it was good to hear her voice. Even though she has a cold (and possibly allergies), which were sort of wreaking havoc.
It was good to hear my sister’s voice, because we don’t talk all that often, but she is the heart of my heart, and I am so thankful for her.
… and also the reason why this scene in “In Her Shoes” tends to make me tear up:
This week’s thought is this
“I like that everyone in the family likes you. You must have been likeable as a kid. And you’re likeable now, so… you’re consistent.”
I could argue – and validly so – that ‘likeable’ in many ways simply means ‘a blank slate’ … or that a lot of our family simply remember me as the quiet kid and don’t really know, or bother to see, me well enough to have a more current and informed opinion… but it’s a nice sentiment and warmly intended, so I will just say, “Thanks, Sis. I like who you are. The real, wonderful you, who only gets better all the time.”
For everyone else, I hope you’ll all just bear with me while I gush a bit about my sister. Part of the clarity that comes with matters of life-and-death-and-eternity impeding on the mundane-and-everyday is an almost visceral awareness of how precious our loved ones are. It strikes me as strange that we can love each other so much, and yet take the very fact of it so for granted, until something brings it into focus.
Who do you love so much it hurts? Do they know it?