Sisterpalooza

This is how life works sometimes: One day, just on a hunch, you send an email. 10 weeks later, you are standing in the church you've always meant to visit. Someone opens a manila folder to reveal a photo of your great-grandfather and your heart takes a step back. You've never seen this one before. He's so young that he looks barely like himself. So young, his first wife is in the photo. But still, the face is there. It has been waiting all this time.

His was not the only waiting face. Last week was Sisterpalooza.

They came in from both coasts, and met in my town. And it went...really well. People keep asking me how it was, and I think they're envisioning a reunion like you see on Montel, with lots of over-the-top emotionality and freak-out sobbing. I hate to disappoint everyone, but it wasn't like that. This was more like friends getting together for the weekend.

Mostly, there was talking. A lot of talking. We spent a lot of time winnowing out the differences and the sames between us. There are some of each--her life, with two children and a family business, is very different from either of ours. Yet our approaches to things, likes and dislikes, seemed quite similar at times. I do think there was a lot of surreptitious glancing on everyone’s part—That looks like me…that doesn’t…I think those are mom’s hands… But that’s pretty natural. And it was...nice. And very friendly.

Besides, the big scenes will come next spring, when NewSister will probably go down to meet her/our mother. That will be pretty emotional.  For now, it was nice just to get to know each other and see some of the sights. Hancock Building, Andersonville, Greektown, etc. There were other sights, too—family photos and heirlooms, a review of the family tree. And the church.