Call my long lost sister

     She was probably the one who taught me how to giggle.  Truly giggle.  Long before I realized not to take life too seriously.  Back when we would dance around the kitchen to bad 80's songs.  We would record silliness on my little tape recorder and listen over and over.  We watched bad soap operas and soaked in the sun for hours by the pool.  We went places together and had adventures on every trip to the "avenue".  And we made holidays amazing.  Magical. 
     But we had our moments too.  Most of the time they were just the result of something else.  It was out of our hands.  We were the innocent bystanders at a million little accidents along the road of life.  Those little things turn into something bigger when too much time goes by.  Other things are diminished as too much time goes by...like the connection, the laughter and the love that once lived there.  Adults get crusted over as hurt and frustration replaces the ease of the sisterhood that once overcame all. 
      Then somewhere along the line you start to realize what might have caused so much damage.  You see how life has its way with you.  There is a new realization and respect for all you have both been through.  Empathy grows. 
     Years later you find a new reason to connect again.  You have both lost a mother.  The same mother.  We were probably the only two who knew her like that.  Really knew her.  We both know how much motherhood meant to her.  It was her everything.  And we grew into women that did the same thing.  So lately we have been texting and sending little messages to each other.  It's been years since we've really connected. Until today.  I picked up my phone and dialed her number.  And guess what?  We were giggling within seconds just like the years had never stolen any time at all.  We went right back to a obscure little movie that we both watched decades ago.  It has always been our standing joke.  We have a certain voice we use and get right into character.  Today was no different.  We are now two grown women...with a little more grey and a few more wrinkles (she has 11 years on me so slightly more perhaps) but we still know how to giggle like kids.  I think we always will.  Maybe Mom isn't here to buy flowers for or spoil with her favorite meal but she is still loved dearly.  There are however two little girls missing her terribly and somehow I think she just might have had a hand in how today played out.  She might have whispered to make a call and then again to make sure someone picked up so that the two grown daughters could giggle yet again.