Sister, Sister
We're not just family, we're friends. Here's why.

by Amy Nappa

My poor brother. With four girls and one boy in the family, Joel was doomed. Would we watch Little House on the Prairie or Monday Night Football? Would we get a dog or a cat? Would he ever get a word in edgewise or a chance to use the phone? He was outvoted, outnumbered, and out of luck. We thought he had it made because he always got his own room and never had to wear hand-me-downs, while we shared our rooms, our clothes, our make-up, and just about everything else. Over the years my sisters have also shared a few lessons with me.

Two Peas in a Pod
I was seven the year my sister Jody was born. I used her like a doll, taking her for walks in the stroller, changing her clothes at random, and even dropping her occasionally. I called her Josie after one of my favorite cartoons at the time, Josie and the Pussycats. When she entered kindergarten, I was the teacher's aide for her class and wrote her, and all her classmates, letters from Santa. When I went away to college, Jody faithfully wrote me the funniest letters I'd ever read. They were so hilarious, I started reading them to friends while we waited for classes to begin. The crowd of listeners grew until Jody discovered what I was doing and started randomly inserting words like "tampon" in the text to embarrass me out of reading the letters aloud.

When I got married, Jody was learning to drive, and when she finally got to her college years, she moved in with me and my husband and son. It was during the years she was renting a room from us that our friendship really took hold. Obviously we'd always been sisters, but the difference in our ages hadn't really allowed us to hang out as buddies. I came to realize Jody and I are the most alike of all the kids in our family. We even look enough alike that people have asked if we're twins.

Today we're both adults and live less than a mile apart. We have similar careers (I'm a writer who sometimes edits, she's an editor who sometimes writes), we have many of the same hobbies, we volunteer in the same children's ministry at the same church. In fact, we often chat on the phone and realize we're both making the same thing for dinner. I guess we're on the same wavelength. Jody and I spend so much time together, our husbands tease us about going through withdrawal if one of us goes out of town for a few days. ("Did you remember to take along a picture of your sister?")

From Jody I've learned age doesn't have to keep sisters apart. And I've learned living together as sisters is different from living together as friends, and only spending time together can make that distinction. I've also discovered a drawback to having a sister so close is it's easy to take her for granted. Jody's shown me how important it is to remember to send cards, bring chocolates, or treat at the movies. Sisters need to know they're special just like every other person in our life.

Are We Related?
In as many ways as Jody and I are alike, my sister Jill and I are different. She's only two years younger than I, so it's not the age. We're just as different as night and day. I decorate in red and cartoon characters, while pink, fine furniture, and a cozy elegance surround Jill. In my house, a sleeve is often considered an adequate substitute for a napkin. Jill will serve you pizza on her best china. She can identify various classical musical pieces. I can name all the Beatles. I tend to be casual in my friendships, while Jill is fiercely loyal to a select few. She's just as purposeful as I am haphazard. Beyond our childhood we've rarely even lived in the same state. And until recently, I was married while Jill was single.

Distance and marital status have had the most potential for tearing Jill and me apart. I was married for 13 years before she found her mate. She was carefree when I wasn't. "I'm flying to San Francisco this weekend." "I'm going to Europe for a few weeks." These were what I often heard when I phoned Jill. She'd have been glad to have me come along, but I had a job, a husband, a son, a mortgage. It disappointed her that I'd check with my husband before going to the mall when she was in town for a visit, or she felt slighted when I wouldn't leave the baby with a sitter and join her at the movies. Being married and being single meant a lot of differences in how Jill and I each spent our time and resources.

Probably the biggest saving grace in this situation was that Jill and my husband, Mike, like each other. Jill had never approved of any guy I'd dated prior to Mike, so when I brought him home to meet the family I prepared him with, "No offense, but Jill won't like you. Just brush it off." I was as shocked as anyone when Jill welcomed Mike with open arms. Their friendship was something I didn't expect—a gift from them and God.

As to our physical distance, that's a tough one. We usually see each other only once a year. We rarely write, but send notes by e-mail as often as possible and talk on the phone as much as we can afford. The real way Jill and I have made being sisters work is to focus on what we do have in common, and really pack it in when we're together. We block out time to watch old movies and eat chocolate. We make time for long talks on the phone when they're needed.

From Jill I've learned there's give with the take. It's possible to meet half way and make this common ground strong. I've learned a relationship, even with a sister, won't occur by accident. Adjustments have to be made by both sisters to make time together happen. Jill's taught me to be gracious and reach out to the loved ones of others.