"A sister is God's way of proving He doesn't want us to walk alone."--Author unknown
In past posts, I've talked about my sister, Carla. Though we aren't twins, we might as well be. My husband says that our hearts beat as one. When she rejoices, I rejoice. When she grieves, I grieve. When Carla's husband of 36 years, Rolf, passed away, I wept with her, held her while she wept, then she held me.
Carla is my only biological sister, but I am blessed with other sisters, sisters of my heart. They are dear to me in a myriad of ways. Some of those sisters are my age. Others are decades younger, others decades older. One of my best friends, Dorothy, was nearly thirty years older than me. It made no difference. We laughed together over life's absurdities and cried together over the tragedies that none of us escape.
This I know for sure: sisters are born of the blood and sisters are made of the heart. Each is precious.