Now this has the potential to be a sad tale so, as the Beatles once said, ‘Take a sad song and make it better.’ My sister died last Sunday, now that is sad, but I feel like celebrating her life and rightly or wrongly I’m doing it here on WordPress.
You see she drove me to the edge of insanity sometimes, not in a bad way, in a mischievous way, but let’s start at the beginning. I was born when she was eleven and I cried, I mean I cried a lot. When dear older sister offered to take me out in my pram there was relief from everyone. They of course didn’t realise she was going across a ploughed field. Everything was going great bouncing across the field until, with no warning, I bounced out of my pram onto my head, she thought I was probably dead and decided to say ‘nowt.’ I slept for the rest of the day and most of the night and she was congratulated for achieving what no one else appeared capable of.
As I grew she liked to wrestle with me. I never won. She was eighteen and I was seven. Her grand finale was to kneel on my shoulders and lick me all over my face. Later in life, once when I had been naughty she stripped me naked and locked me outside the house. When she left home to be a nurse and I was relieved of the torment I cried all the way back from the railway station.
Eventually she married a soldier and lived in Malta and Germany before returning home for a while. Then she went to live in Spain as an expat for seven years and had a jolly time, so did I on the times that I visited. As we grew older we debated, the rest of the family called it arguing. It seemed, just like Winston Churchill, she had an opinion on everything. Sadly there were no real facts to back up her theories, but she still argued them. I realise now that it was just mischief. But, we were alike in many ways. She would argue that David Beckham was a rubbish footballer I would argue that Cliff Richards was a terrible singer. She started writing, I started writing, she loved to travel, I love to travel. She was a wife, a mother and a grandmother. I couldn’t compete with that 🙂
So, after sixty years of driving me mad, you’re gone, to a better place, I hope Sis and maybe we’ll meet again one day and carry on the debate xx