Growing up in a bustling household in Georgia, I often joked that I had hit the “sister lottery.” With seven sisters and two brothers, our home was filled with noise and chaos, all competing for bathroom time in a small house with four bedrooms and just one bathroom. One of my sisters once humorously mused, “We have too many people in this house,” which perfectly summed up our lively, crowded upbringing.
Our sibling bond was a tapestry of diverse personalities and ages. Annette, the eldest, was 18 years older than the youngest, Belinda, and by the time I was aware of her presence as my sister, she had already ventured into college life. After marriage and moving away, her visits home felt more like a joyous reunion with an aunt rather than a sibling. I was in awe of her stylish wardrobe. On the other hand, Belinda, who is five years my junior, saw me as a “know-it-all” while I perceived her as the spoiled little sister.
Over time, our relationships have naturally evolved, marred by occasional bumps but ultimately characterized by shared memories — from bunk beds to secrets. It’s fascinating how each of us remembers our childhood differently; I recall sneaking clothes from Tina’s closet, while she vehemently insists that it never happened.
As the years passed, my career led to a physical separation from my sisters, who spread out to Miami, Texas, and Georgia. Despite our geographical distances, I often felt guilty for not maintaining closer connections, but life has a way of taking us on unexpected paths.
Tragedy struck when Annette was diagnosed with early-onset dementia and passed away four years ago. This loss came alongside Janet’s breast cancer diagnosis, which required my presence during her chemotherapy sessions in Miami. Thankfully, she is now thriving, but our struggles continued when Tina, a non-smoker, was diagnosed with lung cancer. We gathered around her during her treatment, which culminated in a sister slumber party in Georgia to celebrate her recovery. My brother Jackie joined us for part of the weekend, almost like an honorary sister. The joy and laughter we shared in our matching pajamas transformed that weekend into one of my most cherished memories. I will forever remember Tina, through tears, expressing her gratitude for our support.
Our family has known heartbreak as well; we lost Bennie Ruth years ago to breast cancer, compounded by alcoholism and mental health struggles — issues that were difficult to navigate in our youth. Most recently, we mourned our brother Jackie, who passed away following a stroke this year. As we face these challenges, the reality of loss deepens our appreciation for each other and strengthens our bonds. Perhaps it’s this awareness that leads us to cherish our connections now more than ever.