“…she’ll go and fall in love, and there’s an end of peace and fun, and cozy times together.”
― Louisa May Alcott,
Little Women
Sisters. I’m not sure we fully appreciate them until we’re all grown up, and we realize it’s going to take a whole lot of planning for us to get away and enjoy what used to be a given: simply hanging out together. And getting into mischief, and chatting until the wee hours with three spoons over a carton of cookies and cream ice cream, and watching movies like Father of the Bride and Home Alone over and over until we can recite whole scenes word for word, and upsetting one another, and setting one another up on dates, and borrowing clothes and jewelry, and knowing just what the other needs or feels through a slight gesture or shift of the eyes.
I cherish my two younger sisters. And I’m grateful for the childhood we shared together. Our adventures weren’t as physical as the ones I hear recalled in families with boys. No one lost a fingertip in a blender, no one ever broke a bone falling from the second story, and there weren’t any fist fights or nights spent out in the thick of the woods battling deadly creatures.
Instead, we had girlish adventures, many of which centered around the babysitters who were in our home nearly every night as my parents ran a restaurant on the coast of South Carolina. We had one sitter who let us pierce her ears and play driving in her 280z while she snoozed on our sofa. I happened to pop the emergency break during one of these play times and the car went rolling out into the road which was a bit terrifying. Thankfully, it was a quiet beach front road in the winter and no one had driven down it all morning so my sisters and I were able to push it back into place and pull up the break to secure it.
We had this one babysitter, Ethel Bethea, who we adored. She lived down a dark live oak covered road with no street lights so it was particularly exciting to drive her home late at night. Ethel loved us, and she loved rock and roll music. She would bring a new record over at least once a week, and we would pop it on my player and spin around the room pretending we were the Solid Gold dancers. We listened to everything from The Rolling Stones and The Police to Earth, Wind and Fire and Sheena Easton. (Remember “My baby takes the mornin’ train…!”)
We played school a lot. And we built a stage under the beach house where we played Miss America. We also had a complete wedding dress ensemble my flamboyant grandmother put together for us with a huge fake diamond ring, a lace veil and a real dress and we played wedding over and over. My parents still laugh about my sister presiding as the priest over one of our mock ceremonies. She said, “Joe will you take Susie to be your awfullywedded wife?”
During Advent we acted out the Christmas story with towels on our heads for Mary, Joseph and the shepherds. During one of these presentations I was Joseph and my sister, Peggy, was Mary. When we got to the inn, Peggy turned to me (she was three or so at the time) and said, “Joseph, did you bring the checkbook?” She was dead serious. Simply improvising. But it made all the grown ups howl!
Another thing we liked to do was eavesdrop on my older teenage boy cousins who lived with us during the summer while they surfed by day and waited tables at my Dad’s restaurant at night. They had many girlfriends, and we loved to sneak up on them on the board walk and ruin whatever romantic moment was about to commence. (I’m sure they appreciated that.) We had our share of bike ride adventures and floating out too far in the ocean on a raft only to have a big wave push us back in. We caught crabs, fish, we hunted sand dollars and shark’s teeth, we fed stale bread and crackers to sea gulls. But much of this was done in costume jewelry, often in high heels or sequins as we were a pretty tacky, girlish bunch. Almost always in costume.
I am thankful for those girly girl memories. And for my sisters who remain my two best friends in spite of the miles and busy lives between us. We cherish those rare moments when we can steal away together for a lunch or a walk or a shopping trip. Blessedly, our tastes have changed, but when we see a little girl who has broken into her mama’s makeup case and is all dolled up in acrylic heels, a sparkly dress and a plastic jewel encrusted tiara, we have to smile and say, “You look MAAAARVELOUS, darling!”
For more info. on Beth Webb Hart’s novels click here
Another thing we liked to do was eavesdrop on my older teenage boy cousins who lived with us during the summer while they surfed by day and waited tables at my Dad’s restaurant at night. They had many girlfriends, and we loved to sneak up on them on the board walk and ruin whatever romantic moment was about to commence. (I’m sure they appreciated that.)