I have some unique memories growing up with my siblings. Many of them are about being competitive or mischievous, but I have some very sweet memories as well.
For as long as I can remember, I shared a bedroom with my older sister, Judy. She was two years older than me and always there when I needed someone to do something with, even when she wasn’t very excited about what we were going to do.
One year when we were living in Alaska, Judy and I got matching bedspreads for Christmas. They were so cool! So cool, in fact, that I’ve spent a good amount of time looking on the internet for a replica, with no luck. So instead you’ll get my thirty-eight year old description of them. They were sky blue linen with yellow piping. A grand staff, complete with notes, was whimsically printed all over and random white daisies and butterflies dotted the remainder of the fabric.
I cannot count how many nights Judy and I laid in bed talking and making up songs and stories to the graphics on our bedspreads. Our singing always started out as whispers. We were, after all, supposed to be going to sleep. But we were budding stars! We had songs to sing that the world wanted to hear!
Dad didn’t always share our dreams of grandeur, however. Mom usually popped her head first and asked us to keep it down. Then Dad would bellow from the living room, “Girls! Go to sleep!” The third time was usually Dad flinging open our bedroom door, standing with his fists on his hips and barking, “If I have to talk to you again, you’re both going to be in big trouble.”
At this threat we each buried our heads under the covers and acted appropriately frightened. But we knew that he likely wouldn’t do anything. I think deep down he liked to hear his little girls getting along and singing their made-up songs to each other. We were already stars in his eyes.
Peggy – #4