My Little Sister ...

My little sister turned 40 today ...

I find it quite stunning mostly because I imagine her about 25, maybe younger.

My very best New Zealand source on things family sent me this photograph, taken on his cellphone at 'the' birthday party. No family were present, we're rotten at birthdays ... 2 brothers who don't call for birthdays from Australia, a dad who was more efficient when mum was in charge of his memory. And then there's me, the hopelessly irresponsible one living 23 hours in flight time away, with the boxed, not-quite-completed gift still here on Gert's desk.

So, what can I write about my sister ...?
The first thing would be that she's the kind of person you most want in your corner when things go wrong. She's a person who makes people feel safe, whether they're actually dying or simply imagining they are. She's a registered nurse who works in a hospice now.

She's almost the practical one, except when she's not ... it used to be handbags and shoes were her shopper-sins, these days I don't know what saves her for sure.

She's a giggler when she gets going. There was that time in the Las Vegas elevator, the one where the man with the scarred face joined us with two of his henchmen. He gave them instructions about Room ... and they exited a few floors up, leaving us alone with him and his shoulder-holstered gun.

My little sister and I caught each others eye and tried not to laugh but it was one of those situations where the harder you try not to laugh the worse it is until that point where you're convulsed and exploding.

He didn't shoot us.
He tried to ignore us.
Did I mention we were in the Landmark Hotel's tower elevator ... many floors to the top, many many floors.

She was my giggling buddy during those long catholic sermons back in our childhood days too.

I prefer not to annoy her although it does happen accidentally sometimes. Her raised eyebrow is easily equivalent to 1000 cutting words, specially if you know you've messed up or that it could be perceived you have messed up.

However ... when my little sister has had a couple of glasses of wine she becomes the most amusing, verbally-adept creature you could know but knowing it's wrong to encourage this type of verbal-adeptness, I tend to tell the same couple of drinking legends over and over and she tries not to drink (a moment for laughter).

Apparently her 40th party was lovely, and Mark claims that those present sang the most in-tune rendition of Happy Birthday he had ever heard ... although I have no evidence regarding his alcohol intake prior to phoning me ;)

Theres only one sms I keep on my phone permanently, it's from Sand's. She was at a winery concert in the summer and it works as a snapshot. She wrote:Sitting at Millbrook, Queenstown, drinking beautiful wine, listening to Dave Dobbyn and Hayley Westenra with Jim and Bridge

Homesick?
Hell yes!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY Sand's, I do wish I could have been there.
All the very best things in the year ahead.

Love,
Di xxx