My sister and I had a good long walk this past Monday, Memorial Day, up at my mom and dad's property.  I told her my frustrations and discouragements and she told me hers.  She listened, interrupted some, and gestured wildly with her hands.  She yelled at me a couple of times and I'm sure I did much more than all of this to her at various points.  She and I disagreed, agreed, cajoled and lamented.  We were waving our arms, trying to walk fast enough to keep up with our mouths and generally being hilarious to onlookers (I'm sure).

It was nice.  And comforting somehow.  It's nice to know that someone understands, well, mostly understands.  And someone doesn't laugh at my dreams and fears.  And someone is just there.

Family is great and sisters are wonderful.  (I'm sorry for the rocking chair I threw at you when I was 13 and you were 12.)

There is something just so nice about being able to talk as fast as possible and not frustrate the man I live with.  Women need other women, I think.  It is soothing to my spirit to let the lava expode and the volcano erupt.  I love to talk fast, interrupt and be interrupted.  I love to make wildly emotional statements and have the person I'm exaggerating to just accept it and go on, not taking me too seriously.

Thank you, God, for my sis.