Wednesday, September 15, 2010

1955


My sister on Beau at a cattle sorting event

1955
was a very good year.
There was work
for everyone.
Wages were low,
but so were the costs
of housing
and daily living.
A dime could buy you
a Popsicle, two Dubble Bubble
and penny candy.

For fifty bucks a month
you could rent
a pretty great house.

Cars were built solid,
to last.
It was not yet a
disposable society.

Care was taken
to put quality
into products.


My sister was born
that year.
I was jealous
of all the attention
she got.
On her christening day,
I pinched her
through her diaper
and all the flouncy layers
of her long white gown.

She roared,
and so did my mother,
as she rushed
to comfort her.


Now that sister and I
are best friends.
We help each other out.
There's no one else
our history goes
so far back with.


She knew me when
I had freckles
and no hairstyle
and pretended I knew how
to twirl a baton
(I didnt)
and be cool
(I wasnt)


We've weathered
deaths
and divorces
and losses
and starting over
with nothing
so many times


We've discussed it all
sometimes laughing
maniacally
over thousands
of cups of tea.

We support each other.
We have each other's back


Turns out
1955 was
a very good year.

6 comments:

  1. Its great to see such a well knit relationship. You write so well..

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  2. my sis (youngest in our family) and i are the best of friends that's why i can relate to this post. she now lives in the US but we're closer than ever. your poem suddenly made me sentimental here.

    this is really beautiful, sherry.

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  3. Of course, I can so relate to this poem! No other friend knows us quite as well as a sister, or loves us nearly as much...:)

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  4. I too have a sister born in 55...yes it was a very good year...love it Sherry...bkm

    ReplyDelete

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