lyla and liv love to race everywhere they go. it's devastating to be the one who loses. they'll race anyone and anything. on a walking path this past summer a jogger said "hi" as she was running by, only to be chased by my two girls who were determined to beat her. they probably kept up with her for half a mile. i didn't know whether to laugh or die of embarrassment.
they also love to pretend they are my hairdresser, vicky. or "bicky" per lyla, or "dicky" per livie. the pronunciation may be off, but their hair cutting skills are sublime, if not a little "sweeney-esque".
this past week, lyla started ballet. something she dreamed of all summer and something that we are so thankful for. olivia however, is not so thankful. yes, she would love to be a "princess" like lyla. yes, she would love to be completely covered from head to toe in pink. but, most importantly, after being with lyla constantly for the past 5 months, my sweet olivia has no idea what to do when lyla isn't with her. nothing, and i mean *nothing* would console my middle child after we had dropped off her best friend. buckled into her carseat, olivia wailed in true grief, thinking that she would never see her sister again.
i've never had a sister of my own. i didn't grow up with a ready-made playmate that was constantly at my disposal. a roommate that i could whisper all my secrets to as we are both drifting off to sleep. i watch my daughters in fascination, unable to comprehend the intricacies that make up their relationship, but loving what i am learning.
nope. i never had a flesh and blood sister. but what i *do* have makes up for it. i have sweet sisters that i have gotten through marriage, ones that no matter what, no matter the circumstance our hearts have been knit together because we are family.
and then, there are my friends. sweet friends like ruth. despite the fact we haven't seen each other for 2 years, she can show up at my door and 3 hours fly by and i feel like i'm 18 again with my real life pocahontas.
like janelle, my friend who i can call when i am overwhelmed with grief and when i have the stupidest story to tell. a friend who loves me and mine despite all our quirks. who willingly takes on my strongest strong willed child when i'm ready to cry and still comes back for more coffee.
like ranae, who has known me for years and still loves me! who can whip up half a meal and a lovely bottle of wine at a moments notice when we feel a family supper is long overdue and willingly watch my baby when i need the help. a friend who always makes sure that i'm well stocked with snacks and magazines when i have a long road to travel.
like karyn, whose purple chairs and fireplace have become a refuge for me. whose voice at the other end of the phone, calling me "her kimberley" has brought such healing to the broken places of my heart.
like karyn, whose purple chairs and fireplace have become a refuge for me. whose voice at the other end of the phone, calling me "her kimberley" has brought such healing to the broken places of my heart.
like my newest friend sadie, whose family became our family for canadian thanksgiving this year. who i feel as though i've known forever and whose sweet spirit won my children over.
and there are more. each of the women in my moms group at church, different friends who i've moved away from and near too. our hearts are knit by something stronger, Someone eternal and He supplies the sisters that my heart needs.
and so today, on canadian thanksgiving, i'm thankful for my sisters. i'm thankful for each role you play in my life. i'm thankful that even though our faces may look nothing alike, our hearts do.
happy thanksgiving...
