My sister and my hair
|Me and my sister|
This summer, like every summer, I spent some time in Idaho. It’s hands down one of my favorite places in the world. It’s a place I can relax. It’s a place I feel safe. And it’s a place my children find great joy, which in turn brings me great joy.
This summer our trip to Idaho coincided with visits from my sister Amy, as well as my brother Brad and all their families. With eight cousins running around, it was bliss for the children; and heart-warming for us big kids watching our children form the most precious bonds they’ll ever have.
One morning on the trip we decided to load up all the kids and head to a museum in Idaho Falls. Last year, we all saw the Titanic exhibit there. This year we’d be seeing “Bodies in Motion.” As we hustled to get everyone ready, my sister asked me, “You’re not going to wash your hair, are you?” I smiled, said no and smiled to myself knowing just how well my sister knows me.
I don’t wash my hair every day. Heck, I only wash it every three days. I have crazy dry hair and over washing it just makes it worse. Not many people know this: in fact, I can think of three who do — my husband, my best friend Jennie and my sister. When I do wash my hair, it’s a chore: it takes forever to wash, dry and straighten (possibly another reason I don’t tackle it every single day).
My sister making such an innocent, random, but knowing comment has stuck with me for months. There is such comfort in knowing there is another soul in this world who really knows me. She knows some of my deepest (and darkest secrets). She knows what I want for my children if Mike and I were to die at the same time. She knows what type of soda to buy for me at the store. And she knows I don’t wash my hair every day and that I did on that morning in Idaho would have never made it to the museum before noon.
Even on the days I feel most alone: I’m not. I have a band of siblings who love me, know me and make me feel like I belong. Our little tribe has sustained me through so much bad and so much good. Funny how a comment about my dry, frizzy hair is what lead me to this thought. Who knew?
Without a doubt, I am blessed. And for that, I am grateful.