1968-never has our 6 year age difference been more evident than in this photo.  Barely out of high school, I did what a lot of young women of that era did:  I got married!  Aunt Karen is holding my first born who arrived 14 months after the I do's-hardly enough time to figure out how to be a wife-much less a mother.  But there I am-looking very much like my sisters-who were in high school.   What a blessing that we stayed close through those years-another little boy and years down the road, the wheels came off.  I found myself single parenting two little blued eyed boys who looked to me to keep our little family unit glued together.  I know of a surety that I survived, we survived, because of the strength, support and love I recieved from my siblings-especially isissy2 and isissy3.  Communication was more difficult, phone calls were expensive but we stayed in touch and saw each other often.  My oldest brother was a particularly good letter writer, and we exhanged many letters examining our lives, the choices we had made and where we saw light at the end of the tunnel.   When we have sissy reunions we don't spend a lot of time ruminating on the less than rosy times we each have experienced-we, instead, recognize with humble hearts what a blessing it is to have had each other during those times.   We learned that the ardous process of putting the wheels back on is easier when you have a sissy to help you.

1968        iSissy3      iSissy1(always in the middle)      iSissy2

Never has our 6 year age difference been more evident than in this photo.

Barely out of high school, I did what a lot of young women of that era did: I got married!  iSissy3 is holding my first-born who arrived 14 months after the I do’s.  Hardly enough time to figure out how to be a wife much less a mother. But there I am-looking very much like my sisters-who were in high school.

What a blessing that we stayed close through those years.  Another little boy and years down the road, the wheels came off. I found myself single parenting two little blued-eyed boys who looked to me to keep our little family unit glued together. I know of a surety that I survived, we survived, because of the strength, support and love I received from my siblings-especially isissy2 and isissy3. Communication was more difficult, phone calls were expensive but we stayed in touch and saw each other often. My oldest brother was a particularly good letter writer, and we exchanged many letters examining our lives, the choices we had made and where we saw light at the end of the tunnel. 

When we have iSissy reunions we don’t spend a lot of time ruminating on the less than rosy times we each have experienced. We, instead, recognize with humble hearts what a blessing it is to have had each other during those times.  We learned that the arduous process of putting the wheels back on is easier when you have a iSissy to help you.