Sisters (part two): More on Liz

I am loving all of the dialogue so far. Keep it coming, please!

So here's a little more about Liz. She is six years older than me and I'd say we're quite close. We're not as snuggly as some are. (I'm still wondering why not, because we always seemed like a pretty affectionate family, but I guess we weren't compared to Taylor's family. Where was your family on the physically affectionate scale? Where do you want your current/future family to be? I'm a serious snuggler.) Anyway.

Liz was very nurturing to me as a little girl. She would still play Barbies with me when I was 8 and she 14. Not because she loved to play Barbies, but because she loved me. When I was 7 I still sucked my thumb. A lot. Like sucked it raw. Got used to the taste of Tabasco and everything else that Mom and Dad tried to get me to quit. It was a little embarrassing to be in first grade and still suck my thumb. I could control myself most of the time, but when they showed a filmstrip (our kids won't even know what those are!) or every Friday when we got to watch Reading Rainbow (gotta love Lavar Burton), and the lights were low, I'd sneak my thumb in my mouth and have a good suck. I think Mom ran out of ideas. Then Liz got involved. She asked me to look through my little Barbie booklet and pick out something I really wanted. Barbie and the Rockers' Cafe. Definitely. Had to have it. She cut the picture from the advertisement out and taped it around my thumb. "If you go to suck your thumb you'll remember how much you want it. If you can stop sucking for good, I'll buy you the cafe."
Problem solved. I loved the cafe.

A couple of years later Beth and I were really into play food. Beth had the mega cool kitchen and I wanted one so bad. (I mean, what good was all that food without a fridge or oven?) I think by kid #5 Mom and Dad thought we had enough toys, you know?! So for Christmas Liz made me a kitchen out of cardboard boxes and contact paper. She drew the stove elements with a sharpie. I loved it. In fact, Mom dug it out of the depths of the hall closet this week and I was flooded with happy memories. Both of playing with the kitchen and of how much work my sister had gone to to make me happy.

When I was 12 Liz was a high school senior. She would often let me tag along with all of her cool friends. I can remember getting to go to ice cream with her and her friends after one of her Chamber Choir concerts. I felt like a million bucks.

You should see Liz and Matt's wedding video. Outside the Jordan River Temple (in Utah) Liz and Matt greet family and friends as Liz's veil blows around in the blustery wind. Every 3 minutes or so I come up to Liz and hug her and hang on her (I'm about 14 I think). It's hilarious now--I look rather pathetic. But I remember the week after the wedding I was so depressed. I missed Liz so much and now she didn't need me--she had Matt. (14-year-old point of view.) Anyway, I was pretty attached.

(Liz (newly pregnant) conquering the ropes course at our fam reunion at Aspen Grove)

And now everything is different. We're both grown-ups and have families of our own. I think we're as close as ever, though. Liz and I could talk and talk and TALK forever. About anything from Sarah Palin to Britney Spears to how interesting it is that on the west coast it's Best Foods Mayonnaise and on the east coast the same product is called Hellman's Mayonnaise!

(Blaine, Mary, and Jon turning into raisins.)

Like any mother Liz has days when she is so frustrated that her house cannot seem to stay clean longer than 2 minutes and that one of her four children is throwing up--again. But she is dedicated to being a 100% stay at home mom. She is incredibly brilliant (has a degree in Math for heaven's sake), and has had lots of people ask her how she could stay at home instead of having some great career (like her brilliant mind is wasted on her small children). She remains stalwart in her cause. And I love to watch her at work. While in Utah this month I made several visits to her home. One night Taylor and I drove up to her 1940s white house with ivy growing up the side and a perfectly hung porch swing out front. As we pulled into the driveway I looked in the kitchen window to see Liz with her green apron over her cute (I can call it cute if I want to, Liz!) pregnant belly helping her children make dinner. As Taylor, the boys, and I walked in we smelled the classic Hall family homemade clam chowder and the pear butter she was making from the pears she and her children had carefully picked and ripened. She was helping the children stir and add ingredients. As I walked further in the house I saw all of her clever Halloween decorations--the Halloween plates on the wall, the candy corn jars, and the scary noisy scull (purchased at Jon's request). There were mountains of carefully folded laundry on her bed. Her house was tidy. She had been working hard all day. I just kind of drank it all in. She looked so beautiful there with her kids and I thought about how I wanted to be like her.

(Mary and Blaine dining togeth.)

Another night I visited alone--when Taylor was in Toronto. It had been a long day. Liz's body (it its 10th pregnancy) was achy and exhausted. But it was Monday and Mormons try to make every Monday a Family Home Evening. So Matt got on the piano and rounded the kids up with the FHE song. I sat backed and reveled in Sam, Ben, and Jon singing "Called to Serve" (a missionary song) with the perfect pitch they inherited from their parents. I marveled at how well they could read from the Book of Mormon. I was impressed by Liz and Matt's patience with their energy, their boisterous voices, and their small squabbles. And, as I had been thinking about my ability to care for their children if called upon, I felt two things. First, overwhelmed. My life as a mother seems complicated, but it is nothing compared to Liz's. And she is doing it all so well. How could I match up? Thankfully the second thing I felt was totally reassured. Reassured that I could do it with help from God. And reassured by the absolute joy and delight and love I felt around those four children. I could love them as my own.

Are you close with your sisters? (geographically? emotionally?)

If far away geographically, how do you maintain your sisterly relationships?

How do you think you could strengthen a weak sisterly (or any familial) relationship?