After spending twenty-five years in the shadow of one another, it’s been nearly ten years since life/marriage forced us to become penpals. As sisters (16-months apart), we grew up on the globetrotting shirt-tails of our parents.
Dad is from England. Mom is from Chile. We were born in Peru. We call Edmonds, Washington “home”.
We lived on three continents and went to 6 elementary schools by the time we finished 6th grade. We grew up believing our family was invincible. There was nothing we couldn’t tackle, fix or acclimatize to.
We used to dream of finding an island and moving there with our parents and twin brothers. We envisioned a life of Swiss-Family-Robinson seclusion. Our father, the perpetual boy scout would carve out a house for us, while our mother would find a way to make anything we needed from the contents of a junk drawer, some kitchen string and bits of broken crayons.
Though the island never happened, we did create a bond that has managed to withstand all the challenges that life, marriage and multiple time zones have thrown at us. And now, as thirty-somethings, we continue to share our happiest moments and our best advice with each other, just as we always have. Because even though our opinions sometimes differ, our zip codes continue to shift, and our “new families” keep us forever-bustling, we’ll always be sisters.