As I sit before my computer, looking into the combination camera microphone I've just mounted above the monitor, I'm thinking of my sisters. I'm the last to join Skype. I don't want to miss anything. The bond I have with my sisters was forged when we were little girls in England. Being minister's children, we were of course mischievous. We had no brothers, which deprived us of certain vital information about boys all girls should be privy to growing up, but the upside was, having no brothers made the world limitless to us, with no one saying certain behaviors, whether it had to do with achievement or with being naughty, were to be the domain of the boys in the family. Our delight in one another started early on and often came from escapades we carried out, frequently on the second floor of English parsonages, since we were usually sent to bed very early so the first floor could be used for small gatherings of my father's parishioners. People who came to be known to us as "the noisy people."
Wide awake for hours, we'd creep about in our nighties, thinking up ways to entertain ourselves. At the height of our childhood bond, we ranged in age from two to thirteen, so our little army was made up of master minds and pawns. No one questioned rank back then, all jobs were necessary, since we all had the common goal of carrying out the mission of passing the hours creatively.
Since our operations were covert, all communication was done in whispers, as my parents had very sharp ears and any infractions were usually met with a call up the stairs, "What's going on up there?" I remember striking odd poses and whispering, "I'm going to sleep like this." Then we'd stand on our heads, or drape ourselves dramatically off the side of the bed.
We'd clap our hands over our mouths to suppress our laughter, as that would give us away and we'd have to comply with the rule of silence until our parents once again became distracted downstairs. I say rule of silence, but since my parents were, I'm sure, savvy to our carryings on, the real rule was as long as no one fell out a window or did any significant damage to our borrowed home, all bets were on as long as we kept the volume just below that of the noisy people.
Since there were five of us in a family with parents who meant well but were often short on time and patience, our competitive natures were amped up as we made every attempt to capture attention whether it was from our mum and dad or from one another. Being the most creative at this type of game became very important. I was on the younger end of the family and was often outdone. The approval of the big sisters was like gold.
One night when the noisy people were at our house, the master minds decided it would be a good idea to trick them into thinking it was snowing outside, probably in an effort to get them to leave. We gathered up all the paper we could find and lined up in front of the window just above the room below where they were meeting. The pawns methodically tore all the paper into tiny pieces, while the master minds scattered handfuls out the window. We held our hands over our mouths to suppress the giggles that might give us away. The ploy didn't work, but the story became legendary among us and is still told to this day.
We all turned out to be very creative people, maybe in some part due to the combination of competition and a desperate need to pass long hours left to our own devices. The bonds of our childhood have also kept us close through thick and thin. As with any family, there have definitely been disagreements, but we have always abided by the rule, "no one beats up on my sister but me." And being mischievous has never really gone away. While no one but a sister can bring a tear of hurt more rapidly, no one but a sister can evoke peals of laughter and delight more readily either.
If you've read The Divine Secrets of the Yaya Sisterhood, the story of a sisterhood of friends, or if you are a sister among sisters in your own family, you know how strong the bond can be. Men enter the world of an all girl family at their own peril. Many have tried, a few have succeeded at standing the test of the sister bond over time. The bond is a force not to be underestimated, but for those who stick around, it can be upon occasion a source of entertainment and occasionally wonder. My late husband Jim came to appreciate each of my sisters for different reasons.
As sisters, when times get tough, we pull together, either as a whole or in clumps. When The Satellite Sisters had their short reign on NPR, I thought, "that could be us." They were all very different, yet bonded and they were funny, and they loved to talk about anything and everything. Now we get to have our own version of Satellite Sisters with Skype. At last I've got my camera working and I'm ready to make my first call. It's time for The Divine Secrets of the Webcam Sisterhood.
© M.E. Rollins
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