Sister

I've been thinking a lot about my sister lately. Her name was Rosemarie, she was 5 years older than me, I called her Sissy and she called me Babe.

She was the only one I've ever known that would catch a joke at the same time I did. We would look at each other and burst out in hilarious laughter. She had a great sense of humor.

One time when we met in Reno to spend a few days together, I noticed she had a bottle of real perfume. Not cologne like I always wore. She told me to put some on. I splashed myself with the perfume like I always did with cologne. We left the hotel room and got into the elevator. The doors closed and we both smelled me at the same time. I reeked with perfume. We both broke out in laughter and pushed the button to get off at the next floor. We could barely walk we were laughing so hard. She laughingly scolded me, "I told you that it was perfume, you put too much on." We laughed about that "smelly time" often.

There were other funny times together. But right now I am thinking about when she was a teenager and was going to go to the show with a friend. I can remember running down the street behind her and hollering, "Sissy can I go too." She would always turn around and say, "Okay, come on." Sissy can I go too, was what I always asked and she would always give in and take me.

One time when we went to San Francisco we rode the cable car. We rode outside...she stood holding onto a pole and I sat on the seat. As we traveled up and down the hills on out way to Fishermans Wharf, the brakeman said, "Oops." I looked at him and said, "Oops, what does that mean?" He said that he dropped the rope. My sister looked at me and we both said, "You dropped the rope?" We both broke out in our hilarious laughter. I kept sliding from one side of the seat to the other when the cable car went up and down the hills. The man sitting next to me said I should put a rubber band on my butt to hold me still. Of course we broke out into more hilarious laughter again. It was a day to remember.

My sister was good to me. I have so many wonderful memories about her. She was the one to tell me about the facts of life. She was the one I confided in. She was the one I called when I had an overwhelming problem. Especially when I became a mother, I always called her for advice.

Our mother bought some expensive perfume when we were teenagers. She hid it from us because she "didn't want us using it all up." She hid it so good that she couldn't find it herself. After our mother's death we went through her things and found the empty perfume bottle in her cedar chest. It had evaporated. Guess no one was going to use that perfume. We had a good laugh about that empty perfume bottle.

My sister died of lung cancer. She was 62 years old. I miss her. I miss talking to her on the phone when things aren't going so good for me. I especially miss talking to her when I have something funny to share with her. I miss laughing with her. The sound of her laughter rings through my head. It's a wonderful sound...one that I hope I never forget.

Josephine Silva
August 4, 2001