Their First Conversation
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- 09
There is something about sisters. Sisters are friends and confidantes and comrades. Sisters talk and listen and fight and compete. Sisters hold hands, literal and metaphorical, through life. Sisters share stories and clothes and wine and parenting tips. Sisters look like each other, but also very different. Sisters have conversations, silly and honest and deep and slippery. Conversations that sustain.
One of my very favorite blogs to read is written by sisters. I love to read the alternating and wonderful words of two women who grew up in the same home and in the same family and who now have their own homes and families. I am the middle of five sisters and I hope that one or more of my sisters contributes, in some way, to this blog someday. I would love that.
Yesterday, something amazing happened. Something deceptively simple. Something I feel compelled to share. It was early evening. I was home with the girls. We were all in the living room waiting for Husband to come home. I was multi-tasking. I was on the phone with my older sister. Toddler sat on the couch and I placed a bowl of microwaved Alphatots in front of her (mother of the year for sure). I told her to be careful because they were hot. Baby walked over and reached for the bowl. Instead of pulling her tiny hand away from the bowl in an effort to protect, I hung back and kept chatting with my sister on my cell. I watched. And listened.
Toddler looked at her baby sister. She watched as her baby sister grabbed a letter. And then she said something. “Be careful. Those are very hot.”
Baby, ever the diminutive dare-devil, stuffed the letter in her mouth.
Toddler looked at her and said, “Those letters are very hot. Are you okay? Are you okay?”
Baby chewed, her round cheeks jiggling. She looked up at her big sister, blue eyes bright. And then she nodded. And answered her sister’s question. “Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.”
At this, Toddler nodded too. “Okay then.” And then she held out the bowl to offer Baby some more.
Their very first sisterly conversation. Words exchanged. Understanding palpable.
And all of this transpired while I was on the phone with my own sister. This might not seem like a big deal to you. But to me, it was big. To me, it was symbolic and sweet and something worth memorializing; That while I chatted with my big sis, my little girls chatted with each other. They did not just share. They shared words. They communicated. They had their first conversation. The first of so many.
Maybe I am crazy to do this, but in moments like these I flash forward. To the distant future. I imagine these two creatures, these baby girls, many years down the line. As high schoolers. I imagine them sitting there at the dining table, exasperated after a long day of learning, complaining about homework, or maybe each other. I imagine them bickering sweetly and effortlessly like sisters so often do.
And I imagine interrupting them, snapping them out of their sister zone. I imagine telling them about one evening in late October of 2009 when they were both very little. You had your very first conversation about a bowl of steaming hot microwave letters. At hearing this, I imagine them smiling at me and each other. And then, if they are anything like my sisters and I were, they will probably roll their eyes and one of them will probably say something like, “Oh, Mom, you didn’t cook back then either?” And at the rolled eyes, and sassy words, and threadbare memories, and timely truth, I would smile proudly.
Cheers to first words and to first conversations. Cheers to sisters, big and little and middle, now and later and always.
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Do you agree that there is something special about sisters? Do you remember particular conversations with your sister(s)? If you are a parent to multiple kiddos, do you recall the first actual conversation between them?
And the fact that the first conversation was about LETTERS? That is perfect on so many levels.
Margaret Atwood’s “Spelling” is a great poem, sort of touches on some of this. Was preface to my thesis.
Here’s to sisters.
xo
Lindsey
Oh Aidan. Sigh. (she sits. fingers paused on the keys. wondering where to go from here. how to continue.) Because the only thing I really want to say is that I want to see this in my house. Sisters. I want to see it. Feel its beauty. Know the drama. Have it for myself. Under my roof. Sisters.
I love my boys. Oh how I love my boys in every way that I know how to love. And all the ways I don’t even have time to recognize. But I want girls so desperately. And I don’t think I will ever let it go.
Sisters. Banter. Words. It IS important. That memory. That conversation. Those hot alphabet pastas. It is where you can see so clearly what started when Baby was first brought home. A thick and lasting bond.
Thank you for highlighting us. But thank you even more for continuing to recognize the importance of these relationships we have in life. The ones we are lucky to have, to make and to witness.
That post was beautiful. I have a sister, but unfortunately we are not close. I do believe, however, that there is a special bond between sisters, as I have witnessed it with friends, and I have been lucky enough to be “adopted” in this sisterhood and it is something really amazing.
My children are 14 and 11 (girl/boy) and while I don’t remember their first conversation, I love listening to them now, even when they bicker (which is a lot!)
This is a lovely, lovely post.
I don’t recall the first conversation between my boys – only 18 months apart. The elder was a talker; the younger, always quite quiet.
But I’ve watched over the years as these two very different little boys have looked out for each other (the older one, in particular, for the younger). How they’ve shared things. How the younger has looked up to his brother – and lived in his shadow. How the elder has nonetheless given his little brother tremendous respect for his own talents.
They fight, but relatively little. They seem truly to be family for one another – particularly in a single mother household – has been my greatest reward in parenting them.
You have many joys ahead. Cherish them.
So so sweeet. My girls are getting there. To their first real conversation. And their older brother wants to. He tries to … be a part of them. I see it already. There IS something special about sisterhood. I feel so fortunate to be fostering it in my home. It is pure luck, really, and I am grateful for that. And for your support, too. Thank you.
I can hardly imagine what my life would be like without my sister. Hundreds of miles apart, we talk almost daily. We’ve had our ups and downs, but through it all…we’ve NEVER stopped talking. Never stopped sharing. Sisterhood is incredibly special and unique…i’m happy for your girls, and happy for you.
Sisterhood is a beautiful and tricky thing. My sister and I were once nearly reflections of each other. But with time we have traveled different paths which have made us different people. Sometimes I miss the days of being so alike. But I also marvel at the women we’ve become – distinct in many ways, but still close.
I’m so happy for your girls that you documented their moment last night. I have no idea what our first conversation was. I wish I did.
My mom and her sister are very much like that: they sound the same on the phone, went to the same college, majored in the same thing, now they work in the same place and people often ask if they’re twins.
I’ve always envied that. I have a brother and we couldn’t be more different. I don’t know if a brother/sister combination ever gets along quite as well as brothers or sisters can. My aunt though has two daughters who are also very close, again, envy.
Lovely post — the earliest remembered interaction between my brother and me was him asking when they were going to send me back! :p
I have two daughters who, honestly, chose each other before they chose me. My oldest daughter was 2 and informed me that I was pregnant with her sister – a week before I even took the pregnancy test! They have always communicated on levels that even I don’t understand. And yes, to this day, I still have to beg them to stop talking and go to sleep. You have much ahead of you, my friend!
Incredibly sweet post, Aid. Whenever you’re questioning why you write this blog, you should think of today. You may not have remembered their first conversation — when it happened, what it was about, or what you were doing at the time — without writing it all down! This post makes me wish I had a sister (or four) and REALLY makes me wish for a sister for Baby E.
Precious, priceless conversation.
I have two sisters and I would not be me without them. I can recall word for word things they have said to me. Words I will always cherish.
I have to respond with the generic (yet completely honest) ‘AWWWWWW”! Because, really, it is beautiful and precious and special on many levels.
As an only child, I’m fascinated by sisters. I always wanted a sister. I had at least 3 imaginary ones when I was growing up.
So cute!
I loved this post. It made me tear up, but that may be the hormones of my pregnancy. Liz and I grew up as twins, and I’ve always said it was the best thing of my life. Mom said we always had conversations with each other even at the ages when we couldn’t form words. Siblings, if we’re blessed, grow up to be our longest and strongest friends. Of course they can also bring out the worst in us because they know the buttons to push.
I was just thinking of how disappointed I am that Liz and I live so far from each other. We have special traditions between the two of us that no one else can imitate. One that started in childhood and has lasted ever since is putting our cheeks together and smooshing them together to almost damamging proportion. Reading this post makes me miss her so much. Hope to see her soon.
Aww, this gave me the total goosebumps.
I think it is amazing that you were able to sit back and watch, and the thought that some day they will be full of conversations…sigh, it makes my heart swell for you.
I can’t wait to see my girl w/ a sibling.
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My sister and I are 19 years apart. It’s difficult to have conversations w/ her sometimes. She is a teen, and thinks I’m a dork. When she was a baby & a little kid, it was easy, because I was a caregiver to her. But that’s not just what siblings are, are they? Now I can’t wait for the day that we have a real conversation, ya know?
this makes me want to cry. mostly because i long for that kind of relationship with my sisters and i’ve accepted that i’m never going to have it.