The Tale of Two Sisters

When I started writing The Hurricane Effect, my mind was flooded with the thoughts and memories of my husband and the extraordinary way we met. But the more I’ve delved into this story, the more I’ve realized this story is about so much more.

As I go back through the details, I’m reminded not just a love story between two people, but a story of friendships and other relationships.

I’ve felt a wave of nostalgia going through all the memories of the first moments with my husband. I can still remember the first time I heard his voice and how much I loved his deep Southern accent. Unfortunately, after many years of being in the deep South myself, I can no longer hear it. But the memory is with me forever.

But the deeper I go with this whole story, the more memories of others surface and I’ve reveled in their importance.

I grew up an only child, even though I’m technically not. I have two older half-siblings, but they were quite a bit older than I and so we didn’t have shared childhoods. In all respects, I was raised an only child.

So, many times people tell me that I missed out on a wonderful experience because I didn’t share my childhood with any siblings.

But I beg to differ. I didn’t miss anything.

Not because there wasn’t anything to miss, but because they didn’t realize I had “siblings”. I met my first “sister” at the tender age of seven and then later another “sister” in college.

Going through the past, I’ve seen just how little I missed out on. When I’m writing the hard parts of this story, I’m reminded of how my “sisters” have always been there for me.

In my childhood, I had a friend come into my life when I was seven and she’s still with me today. She’s the protective sister, who nowadays gives the best advice and who I automatically think of in a crisis. She’s the calm in the middle of a storm.

But as kids we were each other’s partners in crime (some secrets are still kept between us). Countless hours were spent playing Nintendo, board games, swimming in the pool or sleepovers. We lived down the street from each other, so we were constantly at one another’s homes. Our lives easily intertwined.

I still remember the heartache I felt when she left for college (she was a couple years ahead of me in school). It was like losing a part of myself. I looked forward to the few weekends I got to spend with her at college and when she was home on breaks.

In college, I gained another sister in the most unlikely of ways. But once she was in my life that was it. I spent countless nights sleeping in her dorm when her roommate was gone (I promise I didn’t slobber on the pillows…haha). There’s lots of memories with her, but one sticks out more than others. She’s probably long forgotten, but I still remember just falling apart one day in front of her. She gave me a hug and just let me cry it out. I’m terrible at showing emotion, but it was nice to know I could share that with her and feel comfortable doing it.

So, no I didn’t miss anything. I didn’t miss the good times that come from having siblings or the terrible moments of fights and arguments. We’ve been there, done that and we’re still going strong, despite the distance. And there’s moments, that I get sad and wish they were here. Those times when a phone call just doesn’t feel like enough. I don’t get to talk to them nearly enough (both parties at fault…life gets so busy!), but the moment I talk to them or see them its as if time has stood still. We pick up right where we left off.

Writing The Hurricane Effect, has gave me a new appreciation for my husband, but also the friends…the sisters… who’ve been with me all these years.

No, they aren’t blood family, but some of the strongest bonds are with those who choose to be in your life.


My three sisters (one gained by marriage) and an unhappy flower girl 🙂



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