My Sister and I

by Pat Antonopoulos

Family friends often commented that my sisters and I were found in once-removed-cabbage-patches. They had snapping dark eyes, olive skin and brown/black hair. My Casper eyes are blue-to-pale and blue doesn't snap. Both sisters had reserved front row choir places, crystal, on-key and just the right height.

Off keys told to lip sync and bean poles shared the back row. My ticket was double punched.

Recently, one of my sisters and I attended a meeting together. Someone at the meeting commented how much we are alike...mannerisms, faces and voices. We were told that our telephone selves were indistinguishable.

Benjamin Button inside-out? Aging into duplicates because aging is lines, wrinkles, grayness and a chink in the vocal cords? All babies look alike so all old people follow a backward pattern?
Maybe not.

Maybe years have allowed us a smattering of the best of one another, honed by the blessings of our lives. Time may be a reflection of the women we worked towards becoming, allowing a softening into heads/tails...alike/different...a reflection of the a life time of sibling affection.