Annual Sister Weekend

It was with tremendous joy and anticipation that I received this card in the mail just yesterday.
About eight years ago, my four sisters and I began a winter tradition of heading off to a remote cabin somewhere and spending weekend together, sans kids, husbands, jobs, and responsibilities. From year to year it has been necessary to make certain adjustments. Twice in 8 years, I have brought along a nursing babe, and once we needed to forgoe the cabin entirely to attend our auntie's funeral, and stay near our mother, who had just lost her dearest friend. Sometimes not every sister was present, as Carol spent several years working internationally. This year, I eagerly anticipate connecting with all my sisters, in a great little cabin on the lake.

Our highlights include: Lots of treks through the snow, hunting through some abandoned cabins,"chic" food (hummous, fruit, grainy breads, chocolate, stirfries, NO STEAKS, lots of wine, and maybe a flask or two of sour puss. ) We like to hit the liquor commision together on our way so that we can find something unusual and bizarre to try together. Then Laura usually loads up on several thousand magazines to stack on the coffee table, and Kathy comes armed with a few billion candles to burn. Mary and Carol are sure to come with a new project, Carol's is usually a tree-hugging concept like rug hookiing using recycled felted wool strips in burlap. Mary will obsessively crochet something, thrilled at each little design that appears under her nimble fingers. Now, lest you think we wander into the woods to have a dull time, I would be amiss to leave out the important features of this event.

Over the years we have been known to laugh until we peed (okay, not all of us, but I have to maintain some sense of dignity and privacy here), we have laughed until we cried, we have cried for each others hurts and struggles, we have shared deep, somewhat dark thoughts by the light of Kathy's candles, we've seen each other go through relational, financial, personal, and health challenges. We've had to watch Laura complete quilting projects while nearly simultaneously writhing on the floor to windsor pilates. We've witnessed the liberation of a yellow chair,a red suitcase, and a snow-covered coffee table from a lifeless existence in rubble, and see them go on to live full and productive lives. We've patiently endured Kathy's pedicure treatments, and selflessly munched through Mary's loaves of nutty bread just to give the poor gals a sense of belonging.

And although I think I know these people, I recognize that every year I get to see a little deeper into their personal realities. This is a tremendous honour and blessing.