Today I am grateful for my three sisters.
They were nearly grown and out of the house when I was born. Betty was 16, Jean was 19, Fern was 21. Both Fern and Jean were in Nurse's Training, and Fern was present when I was born.
She was the first one to hold me. And, I was the first one born in a hospital.
From the beginning, I had four mothers -- my own and three others. I was an only child with three sisters.
We were one generation apart in our ages, but that has changed through the years. I remember the day we were looking at nursing homes for my dad, who was living with me. The owner asked a question, and all three of my sisters turned and looked at me, and asked, "Peggy, what do you think?"
I nearly fell over! I was the youngest! No one had ever asked me what I thought.
We have caught up in age through the years. Fern, Betty, and I go on genealogy trips -- though not as often as in the past. And, when I go with Mr. Kerry, they will ask me, "Now, Peggy...did you pack your medicine? Will you have enough for the time you're gone? Do you have emergency supplies? Now, don't drive too late at night..."
Yes, my dears...
These three little hillbily girls grew up to be the best of women. Fern and Jean worked as RN's, Betty was an x-ray technician. They married good men and have good families.
They taught me to have class, which Mom taught us was grace under pressure.
They taught me how to act when something is free, something again that Mom taught. (i.e. Don't go grabbing everything just because you can.)
Fern taught me how important it is to behave around people of all stations of life, and how you want to be remembered when you leave a room. Her husband was a judge, and I had plenty of opportunities to be around people who some would term to be *popular*. I saw him in action on the bench, and I saw the fair way he treated people of every station in life.
Fern also taught me how to wear a hat.
Jean taught me to hold my ground and not back down when I know I'm right. She has always been the one on her hind legs with her paws in the air. She married a man who ran Buckeye Bakery with his brother.
Betty taught me to see right through people -- a trait my mother had. Talk all you want, but I hear what you're not saying. Her husband and his associates owned a roofing company -- not the kind you put on houses. The kind you put on factories and malls.
These are good, good women.
And, I know they won't be around forever. They are my link to the family's history.
And, people still laugh when they see us together, for we act like we haven't seen each other in a year.
Even though we are on the phone every day, several times.
And, once again my mom's words ring true..."If you can get along with the members of your own family, you can get along with anybody in the world."