Mormon Momma

Sisters are wonderful. I have four. Two older, two younger. That puts me right smack in the middle. And sometimes feeling left out. Growing up, we were six women(counting my mom) sharing a one bathroom house. It wasn’t as cozy as it sounds.

Long story short, we all grew up, moved thousands of miles apart, licked our wounds for ten or more years and finally made up with the very best friends of our lives.

Nowadays, I can’t say enough good about any of my sisters. Being in the company of any of them is to experience an outpouring of love and acceptance and support like no other. And though I’m the only one of my sisters still “hoodwinked” by this cult I like to call “The Gospel of Jesus Christ” or “The Plan of Happiness”, there is so much good in each of them, I can only hope my life will be half as acceptable before my Savior when the final roll is called.

I regret the “ten or more years” I spent licking my wounds from real or imagined offenses and wish we had gotten to the part of loving and supporting each other sooner.

I look at my own two grown daughters (24 and 29 years old). Complete opposites. And so much pain between them. Taking offense where none is intended. Giving offense in retaliation or preemptive strike. And both suffering. I tell them that one day they will realize how important the other is in their life. And I pray with all my heart that it is true.

Sisters of the world, wake up. If you’ve got one out there. Make it right.