Monday, September 28, 2026 Three Sisters

My mom was the youngest of three sisters. I love looking at old black and white photos of them from nearly 100 years ago. The sibling bond is a unique one. You share memories, for better or for worse, of growing up in the same home with the same parents. These three played dolls together, had to get the same kind of haircut, and no doubt shared a bed, a room, sometimes their clothing as hand-me-downs. The things that shape you as person are often bound up with your siblings, for better or for worse.

These three little girls kept up with each other their whole lives, though the oldest one went off to New York, followed by the middle sister. Eventually the middle one went through some tough times and came back to her roots in Minnesota and stayed. When their mother was dying of cancer, all three sisters sat vigil with her in the hospital. My mom told me later that they laughed like crazy with each other, and they wept together as they witnessed their mother slipping away. And the sibling bond strengthened, as it does when you share that kind of intimate experience.

Photographs capture a moment in time, and these are just a few of the many that we have from those years. All three of these little girls have passed on now, but oh, how young and vibrant and funny they were back then. The years have marched on, but the memories remain.