Sunday, June 7, 2009

A Weekend With Ellen and Johnny

This is why we came to California. I know. The trip was really for the missiles. It was to see Mom, Jean and Sherrie and touch base with friends. But after less than 24 hours here in Tapo Canyon, in my heart I know that this is why I came willingly. I don't just love my sister. I miss her all the way to my soul.

We can sit next to each other with books on our laps, reading and occasionally saying something to each other, and just feel contented. There's a spark that wasn't there as kids. We were too different then. I was too studious. She was just enough older than I was, that I was "the pest." I loved camping. She didn't. I loved playing the accordion--loudly. (Need I say more?) Now, I wonder if we've changed, or if the differences just don't matter anymore. Perhaps we're still just as different, but we've learned to celebrate the differences... or ignore them. Actually, I guess, we learned somewhere along the way to laugh at them, at ourselves and at each other.

We both turned into good cooks, so no matter whose house we wind up at, we eat very well indeed. Her taco feast last night was excellent, and livened up by the presence of four of her grandchildren. Today we'll cook together, and continue our rambling conversations. It's another visit in a long line of them that are spread too far apart.

Both of us married men named John. Last night my John came to bed really pleased because her John had suggested she come back to our place for another visit soon, since he's too busy to come himself right now. He lives in California, but commutes to Reno for work. Many times he's not even home on weekends lately. He's busy. He's brilliant. They love each other, and it makes me glad. We'll have to figure out when she can come. Luckily, his commuting gives them plenty of frequent flyer miles, so she can fly into Denver for free, and we can swoop down and collect her at the airport.

We'll leave in the morning for our final week of John working at the base. Then Saturday we'll head home. At least that's the plan now. Plans can change, I realize, but life is good. I'll be glad to walk in my own door, but I wouldn't have missed this weekend for the world.

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