I Am Thankful
My sister, Bonnie Rae, and I were born in 1941 and 1943, respectively. We endured chicken pox, cod-liver oil, and having our tonsils removed—together. Mother sewed us plaid, white-collared dresses with puff sleeves. She platted our hair or clipped it with beribboned bobby pins.
When Bonnie entered first grade, I turned a clock’s hands forward because I thought it would speed her return home. I was a tag-along and a pest.
One day she told me to climb inside an abandoned truck tire. I did, and she rolled me down a hill. When she said a hobo living in the miners’ bathhouse was a boogey-man, I believed her. As young teens, when she walked down our church isle during revival, I followed.
In a school musical, she was cast as a southern belle. I had to black my face and ‘pick’ cotton. She played clarinet. I attempted trombone. She liked to sweep and dust. I baked cornbread and pastries. She favored one aunt, I another. Yet we double-dated, shared prom formals and a wedding dress.
At thirty-eight, Bonnie chose scriptures and hymns for her funeral, gave me her string of pearls. She died of bone cancer. I miss her; wish I could be her shadow still.
I am thankful for the promise of eternal life. One day, when I see her again, we will laugh and dance along the hillsides of heaven.
Who has touched your life with joy?
Give thanks to the good Lord for them.
11/2/2014 10:48:21 pm
So very sweet and touching.
11/28/2014 09:33:31 pm
i have never read this story before! So touching. I wish I could have known my mother the way you did. I am thankful for the memories I do have of her and dad. We had a very good little family. I am so thankful for the witness she showed me in her own life.
11/28/2014 11:23:02 pm
What a precious remembrance. I miss her too.
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