Sister Wisdom in Cyberspace
By Leny M. Strobel

I have four sisters. No day passes by without email. We have saved a lot of money from not needing psychotherapy because we have each other. From Colorado, Manila, Washington DC, California, there is much wit and wisdom that goes around.

Mom must have known I'd never run out of friends, she gave me sisters!

When you make a fool of yourself, a sister reminds you that it isn't permanent.

No time was wasted if you had coffee and Danish at your favorite coffee shop.

Yes, some of us border on being obsessive-compulsive—but we can still laugh at ourselves and that is the best therapy!

Remind me not to spin too much.

Every issue is wrapped in so much deep mystery.

It is a Filipino thing, this sharing of guilt, pain, and suffering and spreading it equally among siblings.

Guilt is a way of feeling heroic about one's self. . . life can be more pleasant if we can avoid spreading this germ.

There is plenty of room for others to care as much as I do.

Imagination is powerful. I'm home when I imagine belonging to our family.

Deep breathely.

The burden of sisters, like sand on shoe, nibbles on the edge of what would rather be undiscovered country. But no such luck. We all want to be like each other and yet fiercely defend our single shining characters. Email is crazy that way. It draws you tighter and closer and then you realize you don't like how your boundaries are crossed even by those you love dearly. And yet you won't have it any other way. Sisters are much too precious for that kind of gatekeeping.

Soon we shall start another journey together, the gathering of the clan to tell each other stories of what is remembered and piece these memories into a larger story that hopefully will frame our lives and give us a secure sense of place and belonging in the world.

Deep down we're already content to just be ourselves without the need to prove our worth or without the need to shout in order to be heard. We already belong to each other and we're welcome into each other's heart. I need not convince you one way or the other.

For what good is it to be able to dig up memories, dust them off, enflesh them, if in the end you cannot let them go?

Reprinted with permission and excerpt provided by the author from her book (GO TO BOOKS), published by T'boli Press, 2005.

© Leny M. Strobel

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