Stuck Forever

I decided to take surface streets on the way home. The freeway would have been faster, but the empty main street, with a row of green lights off into the distance, tempted.

It was late. Later than I had planned to get the kids home on a Sunday. The radio was turned off as it usually is when the three of us are in the car together, sometimes alone in our thoughts, sometimes talking, rarely needing music to fill the space.

For me, it gives me a few moments of peace, a few moments to share, or, sometimes, to eavesdrop.

"I love you, Elizabeth," Joseph said into the darkness. "You are cute and kind and an awesome sister."

My heart melted.

"I love you too, Joseph!"

"Why?"

"Because you are cute and kind."

"And?"

"And kind."

"And?" he led.

"And an awesome brother!" I could hear Elizabeth's smile at finding the correct answer.

"Good. Because you're stuck with me for the rest of your life."

"I know," she replied happily.

"I'll always take care of you. I'd take care of you even if you weren't cute. But being cute helps."

"I know," she said without concern.

I thought of my sisters and our bond forged in difference. There was a time that our difference to the outside negated that of our personalities and interests. There was a time when I'd know what they were thinking by a raised eyebrow, a smirk, a shifting of eyes. A time when Becky linked arms with me to walk in the store, when Melissa talked me down from a panic attack with her pessimistic views, and when Rachel held the sleeve of my dress in church.

We're older now. We have families of our own, lives completely alien to each other. I gaze at their pictures on Facebook, the activities and friends that are so much a part of their lives and feel the differences that were always there expand until I'm looking at almost strangers.

I looked in my rear view mirror at Joseph and Elizabeth. In the glow of passing streetlights, I saw their hands holding tight. I was transported to a beat up blue station wagon and staring out the window at Orion's belt, the lights reflecting on the water of the river while Becky leaned on me, asleep. Melissa leaned on her, a domino along the back seat. I remember tilting my body until my head rested on her head and closing my eyes to sleep, comforted by the knowledge that my sisters were stuck with me for the rest of their lives.