Once upon a time there were three pairs. Three pairs of sistahs.
There was the Granny pair, the Mummy pair and the little Baby pair.
The three pairs were very alike but at the same time very different. Three years between big sistah and little sistah, each pair with two distinct personalities.
The story begins with the Granny pair. Chalk and cheese but as thick as thieves. They adored each other, called each other, saw each other as often as possible. They had weekends away, short spa and shopping breaks, week-long twosome trips. Their differences were ignored, allowing them to be together for seventy long and loving years. But the Granny pair was sawn in half last week, cut straight down the middle, leaving only the little sistah’s howls ringing in my ears. Sadly there was no magician in the wings, able to put the two halves back together again, so unfortunately this pair is no more.
The story continues with the Mummy pair. Both in their early fifties, both kind, both gentle, both jolly. But the big sistah kinder, gentler, jollier, without an ounce of bad in her bones. The little sistah, however, capable of gouging out someone’s eyes with the stroke of her pen. They talk for hours, mending the world or trying to, at least. A mutual respect, affection and love bonding us, oops, them forever.
And then comes the little Baby pair. They haven’t reached their elders’ level of admiration yet. There are still the arguments, the angry words thrown about, their only aim to hurt each other. The complaints, moans, shouts all still flying around the house. But I can feel the end of this phase approaching, the moment coming when they will want to spend time together, want to chat all day, want to go out and laugh and dance as one. I’m praying that this time is just around the corner, and when they find it that they will hold onto it for dear life.
Why sistah and not sister? The urban dictionary says it better than I ever could:
“A sistah is a girl or a woman coming from the same parents, roots or spiritual state of mind. A female whom you can count on throughout all time. In her truest sense she is one who will never turn her back on you. A real sistah is family. She gets it. There is no need to strain and explain to a true sistah.”
The Granny pair had it, the Mummy pair has it and I truly hope that the little Baby pair will have it very, very soon. Then everything will be just right.