When the jonquils bloom in the spring, I think of her–my sister Helen. Maybe it’s because of her March birthday, maybe it’s because those first flowers are so welcome after winter and are such a cheerful sight. My sister was a cheerful, upbeat, lovely person.
Some people make the world a better place simply by being. She was one of those. If someone had a problem, she did her best to fix it. There were no halfway measures for Helen. She lived by the adage, “If you want a job done right, do it yourself.” Her home and her children shone with the love she lavished upon them.
Being a few years younger, I looked up to my sister as the fount of wisdom. I might not know what to do in a certain situation, but Helen did. All I had to do was ask myself, What would my sister do or say about this? Then, I’d have the answer.
She looked after me when I was small, guiding, protecting. She was there as I grew up, ready to listen. And, she was my friend. I remember a time, after our mom died, she and I took a short road trip through part of Texas. The bluebells were blooming. The day was sunny and perfect. We decided to check out some of those beautiful old houses we saw along the way. One house in particular looked empty and mysterious. Who had lived there? What did the inside look like? Why would someone just move away and leave a lovely house like this? Our curiosity knew no bounds.
We stopped in the driveway, got out of the car, and hurried up onto the porch. The window was clouded, but we peered through. Two eyes stared back at us. We backed away and beat as dignified a retreat as possible to the car. Lesson learned: some houses that look vacant, aren’t. 
She was dignified; she was fun. She was a practical person and also a dreamer. She was never loud or boisterous but wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. I grew up thinking she was pretty much always right. My opinion hasn’t changed. She was great at ironing out problems. If we could sit down today for a cup of coffee and a chat, I’d tell her how privileged I was to have her as my sister.
Today is far from Childhood —
But up and down the hills
I held her hand the tighter —
Which shortened all the miles –
Emily Dickinson
What a lovely tribute. My sister and I were very close like that and I miss her terribly. This has me crying remembering her.
Peg, I’m sorry you are sad. Yes, sisters are special people and we miss them terribly when they’re gone. But, what a blessing they were.
If Mom were here today, I’d wish her Happy Birthday, and then I would ask many questions that I’ve thought of since she’s been gone. Via the telephone, she helped me with so many questions when Paul was little. Now, I would ask her about her feelings in all the time frames of her life. I didn’t ask enough about her feelings. I miss her desperately! Jonquils remind me so much of Mom, too!
We all wish the same thing about our parents and grandparents. Yes, so many things I’d like to talk to her about too. I mailed the photo you asked for, today.I hope it reaches you unscathed. Let me know.
Such a beautiful tribute to your sister. My sister passed away in April 2018. She was younger, but because I was painfully shy as a child, she talked for me until I started school. We lived together since 2004 and we’re very close. She was big-hearted and never met a stranger. After talking with someone for a short period of time, she knew their whole life story. She was hilarious, and I miss her very much.
I’m sorry for the loss of your sister, Christi. I understand your missing her. She sounds like a wonderful person, the kind of person who could brighten the day. Thanks for writing.