Lucille's

Judy.

I used to be taller than her

 She’s my sister......and my bestest friend

           We live on opposite coasts of Canada, but our brainwaves have no difficulty traversing the miles. We are only 14½ months apart in age and were virtually raised like twins, sporting identical dresses long after it was remotely cute. Everyone said we were like two peas in a pod, but as a mater of fact, neither of us resembled any kind of vegetable, let alone each other.

            In our early years we shared an old iron double bed, the one where I was routinely pummeled for inching a toenail over the centre line. Judy was the youngest (still is) but was as tough as nails, and I alternately feared, loved and admired her. She was the hero of all the neighborhood boys, being an innovative fort-builder and fearless adventurer. This, while I put yet another stitch in a doll dress or arranged the bedroom furniture ...... again, or re-read Little Women on the front steps. I have almost forgiven her for cutting holes in my prized chintz fabric to make a ghost mask so she could scare me half to death.

            We made most of our own fun, skating on the beaver pond behind our rural Ontario house, putting on plays every Saturday night in our attic bedroom (I wrote, she starred), playing house in the converted chicken coop (she was always the Dad, I planted flowers,) playing church on Sundays (she preached, I played the piano). We sang duets at events around the countryside, tooted in the school band and double-dated boys whose names we are trying not to remember.

             Today she parachutes and bungee jumps (did I mention she’s a preacher? and a chaplain, missionary, teacher, prison worker). I do cross-words, sew, bake and, you guessed it, re-arrange the furniture. I have co- owned a gift store/Tearoom...... flowers in front, pies in the oven.

 Despite our differences, our shared history has given us a bond that has endured and can never be broken.

            Together we faced the humiliation of wearing Mother’s hand-crafted creations, enjoyed the hilarity of long summer holidays, spoke secret languages, unmercifully teased our younger brother, stood side by side as young teens at our father’s graveside. Even now, I can taste the tears where the pain and laughter of those years have merged.

             

            Today we know just when to call. We share successes and fears, joys and sorrows, dreams and memories. We are each other's 'mutual admiration society.' That’s how it is with a friend. You find your thoughts are not just your own anymore. Someone else thinks them too.  I find comfort in knowing that somebody who knows me so well with all my warts and blemishes  understands me and loves me still....no matter what.

 Too bad she  lives 6000 kilometres away!

Wahooo!!! She's coming to visit next month....to celebrate an auspicious birthday...but mostly just because. Love you Jude.