Thursday, September 10, 2009

Phone Call

When I call my sister on the phone, the murmur of childrens' voices fills the background. Her voice smiles, and I can see her blue-grey eyes shining in my mind.

When I call my sister, I return to the days of our childhood when we made radio shows, played ridiculous duets on the piano, and laughed and fought our way through. I talked and she listened; she did something crazy and I helped pick up the pieces.

When I call my sister, I hear music in her voice--the music spills out of her words. I hear the clean, deep bass notes followed by the thick thatch of middle chords that finish soft and high. The music pulses like waves through our conversation.

In my sister's voice I hear the echoes of what I once was, and what I am, and what I hope to be.


New Mommy said...

Not a post I deserved, but one that I thoroughly enjoyed.

I love you!

Anonymous said...

This is really good. You are blessed to have a sister such as Sharon as she is blessed to have sister such as you!