MY SISTER PAULA

by Danna Shirley

            I would never have believed that my sister, Paula, and I would become so close as adults considering the miles that separated us over the years and all the battles we fought as children. She was the middle daughter and I was two years younger. I suppose as the middle child she had to “try harder.” 

            As all siblings do at times, Paula and I had our differences . . . dare I say fights? She would sharpen her nails into daggers and then come at me ready to scratch my eyes out. I remember going to her closet and pulling all of her clothes off the hangers and letting them drop on the floor. When she found the pile and screamed, mom came running and saw what I had done. 

            Mom said, “Well, that’s the only way she can get back at you. She won’t come up against those fingernails.”

            At other times, the one on the losing end, usually me, would run to the hall bathroom and lock the door. She was smart enough to pick the lock and get to me anyway. Once I was the one chasing her into the bathroom and when I was able to pick the lock, she had pulled out one of the drawers and blocked the door from opening. She was always one step ahead of everyone!

            The only injury suffered during these years was a broken finger . . . mine! She attempted to slam my parent’s bedroom door shut trying to get in their room to lock it behind her. I thought I would be smart and put my hand in the door jam to stop her. Not smart! We only lived about four blocks from our doctor’s office so she walked me all the way to Dr. Berger’s on San Pablo Avenue. I fell asleep in one of the examining rooms and when I awoke, Mom was there to take me home.

            Nan, our oldest sister, was pretty docile and I was pretty docile, but Paula could spin us up the walls in a heartbeat. Nan and Paula used to play Canasta and Rummy and I would watch. Paula was a card shark and I mean a “shark.” When I finally grew old enough and learned to play with them, it was frustrating to say the least. I could never win against Paula; very few people did! One of her tactics was to discard something she would want later so she could pick up the whole pile when it was full of good cards. Nan and I struggled to just keep our hands going while Paula gloried with the table full of runs and three of a kind and would go out on us, always her goal from the beginning.

Now as adults, we play Hand and Foot. It’s humorous to still see the wheels of conquest in motion behind her eyes. She hasn’t changed a bit. Today, though, the competition isn’t fierce. We’ve all mellowed considerably and enjoy each other’s company immensely.

            When my husband died, Paula (in CA) would call me (in MS) every morning and every evening to check on me. I told her it wasn’t necessary to call twice a day but she insisted saying she didn’t want me to wake up alone or go to be alone without a “good morning” or a “good night.” She let me talk and cry and never got tired of being there for me. When a friend moved in four months later, her calls became less frequent because she knew I had someone to be with me.

Now that I’m in Bartlett, TN, and still alone, she calls almost every day. I’m going to CA to see her in August and she’s coming to TN to see me in October. Our plans are to kidnap our sister, Nan, for her 65^th birthday and we’re all going to Pigeon Forge for a girl’s getaway.

            I thank God for my sisters.  Such good memories are even more special at our age.

June, 2007