diamonds on the souls of her shoes,

Cindy, my sister. Still in her 20's. She is well dressed, As in "those shoes cost more than my whole family's wardrobe". But that is not hard to do nowadays.

She knows obviously, that I am her sister.

This fact hit me first.

"So, you know I am your sister and not your Aunt? When did you find out? And why no sisterly love before this?"

O.k. so at this point I was thinking how I could have used a sister since Ian left. I could have used a babysitter every now and then. I could have used a shoulder to cry on. My kids could have used a stable person around while I was falling apart.

Yeah, how long did she know?




"I tell you our mother is dead, and that is what you have to ask me?" Cindy vex perplexed. Her brows and furled and she looked at the ground to me to the sky to the rolling hills. "Don't you care?"

"I care more that you know I am your sister. I care more that you weren't around. I care to know how long." I said quickly.

She seems upset. Real upset. I had all but forgotten she and her brother existed, I almost forgot Bobbi existed. Occasionally I wonder what happened to them, whether or not they were still alive. But the thoughts didn't last long and they were far and years between.

"She was a mother to you, I get that. But you need to understand, she was not to me, nor was she that sister she pretended to be either. I didn't loose a mother, but knowing I had a sister who didn't care to contact me until now, that is a slight more important to me." I looked her straight in her harsh looking eyes. "I a, sorry for your loss, but I lost her a very long time ago. I thing it was about 8 months and 29 days before my birth. I hope you can understand my life has been very different from yours, from what little I can remember of you." I sighed and she softened.

Cindy sighed heavily too.

"I realized when you called Granny, Grandmother. I heard them talk hen they thought I was asleep. I heard Mother on the phone when you had the baby." she looked towards the car. "Your first baby." she corrected herself. "I picked up the other receiver. I heard about your brother. But after that, after that... I was young. Very young at the time. I kept it in the back of my head. When Granny died I hoped to talk to you at the wake or funeral, but you never came. No-one talked about you. When I asked where you were, I was told nobody knew." She said looking me right in the eye.

Well this seemed like a emotional sister conversation that I had seen other sisters have. I smiled. She looked confused. I hugged her. She seemed confused.

"Just like real sisters. " I said as I let her go.

"What?!" She recoiled back a little

" We see things different just like real sisters. " I smiled. " we argue the point like real sisters." I smiled again. "I could use a sister."

She smiled a little, not sure what to think. Here begins the awkward silence.

In the awkward silence my daughters came out of the car. The came and stood around me. They looked at her.

Unlike my for-mothers, I don't believe children are imbeciles or deaf. I know they are very good listeners.

"This is your aunt Cindy. "

They all looked at her wide eyed. They have gone through a lot of aunts and uncles that are no longer here. They are removed from family so easily. It is the story of almost every divorced kid. At this moment being torn away from the commune made me realized I knew this feeling too. From then on you precede with caution.

"Hello, girls." Cindy said as she bent down to little Mercy and smiled.



That was the beginning of my crazy month.

Some times you have to take time out in your life to have a crazy time.

Now I know what you might be thinking, what was all that bathtub gin about, seemed pretty crazy. Naw, that was just coping. And there is nothing like your mother dying to put just coping over the edge to crazy for a while.

If I had someone to watch the girls, I probably would have gone crazy after Ian left. I couldn't afford to. I had 4 babies. One of them literally a baby.

Now I have Cindy. I took some time to digest everything. Away from the girls.

Cindy caught me up. Cancer. Brest. Genetic kind. 6 months ago. No-one told me. No one called me. No one tracked me down until 6 months later.

Cindy finished up her schooling in Boston. Sandra. Sandra was watching over her, keeping tabs on her. She finally told her she should look me up. She should hunt me down since we lived in the same state, than slipped her my address. Took her another 6 weeks to do it.

I should be upset with Sandra and Carol for not telling me. They told Cindy it was her responsibility to tell me. To find me. To make some links back. They were right of course.

After a week at my house, after making calls to Sandra and Carol, I figured it was safe enough to leave the girls with Cindy. She was taking time off between school and life. She just broke up with her fiance she had at school. In the end they wanted different things. Nothing earth-shattering bad. She was looking for something that would take her mind off it, so many reasons why we end up where we end up, the right thing done for other reasons, still turns out to be the right thing.

She doesn't really know anything about me beyond the girl she saw so many years ago and the woman, single mother, 4 girls, slightly a bit of a train wreck she sees before her. Everything in between didn't happen, didn't exists, she never knew butterfly. It is funny , we only see people as what we see them at during that moment of time. It is hard to see them as anything else. I think that is why it is so hard to change. When people put you in a role, they like you to keep playing it. Even yourself. You get caught up in it. Role of a lifetime. This is why moving is so popular among women in my situation. You get to get a new role of a lifetime.

Best place to go crazy? Not in the town you live in. Hell no. Find a city. One far enough away you are not about to meet up with the townsfolk.

I kissed my babies goodbye. I pack my old steel guitar and a small bag with a few changes of clothes. Boston your my town. I remember how free I felt there. How bound I felt there. But mostly how young I was there. Crazy is the gift of youth and old age. You are allowed to be off center without too much judgement. In between we yearn for pieces of its sweet freedom.

Well that was my plan when I drove to Boston that last summer's day, to go crazy for a while, try to recapture my youth. Hell I promised myself I wouldn't even look at a mirror fir the time I was there.

I wish I was in heaven sitting down

The girls all washed and in their Sunday best. For the first time for Sunday church.

I had past the church in the center of town many times and thought little of it other than a good example of the stone architecture of the time. It always struck me as strange it had star of David in the middle of the left tower. The first time I passed it I thought it was amazing we had a Temple in town. I was assured it was the First Congregational Church when I asked where the knishes were at the Church bazaars and picnic the first year we were in town.

For the record they didn't know what a knish was. Nor any other Jewish food I asked for. At that point they thought Ian married a Jew. I just went along with it and tried to invite the pastor over for the Sador. He bowed out gracefully.

Ian and the girls were the only ones who got the joke. Though there were less girls back then.

Some years later I did tell his wife it was just a joke since no-one seemed to think an star of David was unusual for a church. She was shocked to hear it was a Jewish symbol. It must have been there so long no-one made the connection. Funny how it takes a stranger to notice something you see all the time.

People , passers by have always pointed out to me things I never noticed about myself in my youth. I yearn for those days again every now and again. It seems everyone I see now I have seen for years and there are no strangers around sent from some celestial place for wisdom to filter through.




Back to church. We, of course, got there 5 minutes late. Last time I did this , I was the kid. There is no better way to make an entrance in the local small town church than to arrive 5 minutes late with a bunch of load questioning girls, the kind of questions you don't want resonating through a silent Church. Questions like " what is church and why are we going?" "why do we have to be quite?" And my all time favorite from my oldest "shouldn't you still be asleep at this hour, mother?"

And me, tired and weary, and yes, usually at this time I am still sleep this time of day on a Sunday, instead of being embarrassed in front of most of the town and all of the town's gossips.


The preacher had stopped what he was saying as I was trying to slip into church with my noisy bunch. He waved us in. I took the road of pride and walked us to the middle of the church instead of the back of the church where I was hoping no-one would notice us. No chance of that now.






Fidget was the word in my family for the next hour. An hour of constant correction. The one thing going through my mind "why do women who have children put themselves through this?" why did my grand mother with all those kids do this? I do remember she didn't care after a while, when I ran away. When I left to catch frogs and learn from Moses. She didn't realize after a while I was going to church with Moses' family.

Oh no, the thought of genetics came to mind. These girls are all mine. How can they do anything but fidget. I braced myself to see if any would bolt out the door.

About that time the preacher preached about a sows ear and a silk purse all while looking at us. How flashbacks of my grandmother's church was coming to me. Filtering through my mind in between the hushed words to Solas and Freedom. The words of hatred and condemning those Jesus would have loved.

I really don't think Precious really meant this for me and the girls.

Then something strange happened.

Oh nothing like Mother Mary coming down to make my girls perfect angels, but something that threw me just the same.

Preacher talked about hidden talents. About other loves. About people not being what they seemed. That people had lives before they arrived. that people are different than what you believe them to be.

Then he came down to me and asked me to come up,

"take for example, Emma, here. " he said to the congregation " How many of you know she was a musician? or that she even record an album in Europe? Oh I am sure you were aware of her husband's musical career..."

I was so proud of my self for not interrupting him to point out that Ian was my EX husband, as in former and no longer.

"But Mrs McEwing here, is a musician in her own right, and they meet when he was he back up musician."

He stopped to let that all soak in.

"So I have asked Mrs McEwing up here to see if she would grace us with a song or two this morning as our Mrs. Benoit is unable to play for us due to an ailment. It must have been God himself who directed Mrs McEwing here today with her daughters to fill in." he smiled and brought me a guitar.

How can you say no when GOD HIMSELF brought you to church to fill in. Maybe in more ways than he knew.

I tuned the unfamiliar instrument. I wish I had my old steel one for this. But I make due. I tuned it to my satisfaction and sat down on the chair the preacher fetched for me. I sang two songs. Old ones. I avoided looking at the town's people before me trying to get my old mojo going. Just like the old days with Moses.







I must say, it felt great to sing in front of people again.

I noticed the town folk in front of me. They looked shocked. I don't think they were used of the blues or gospel. I wasn't sure what to make of them. Strange people, don't know what good music is.

The preacher smiled at me as he retrieved the guitar and the chair and put them aside.

"If I am not mistaken, Mrs McEwing, that was examples of the blues you learned growing up in the south."

I smiled back and said "Yes, I would often play in church in my youth." I really wanted to say "Will you stop calling me by Ian's name AND IT IS MS SMITH, the name change came with the divorce decree." But I didn't, I just smiled and looked meek as I walked back to my pew. My girls were smiling at me.

Damn, Ian must have told him a lot about me.

"Mama, you sing good" Mercy said in her little voice. That was all the justification I needed for the day that I still had it.

As we left the church the preacher asked us to come back, "Don't make yourselves strangers to God's house. " he said.

The jury was still out on that in my head. The ride back home was nearly uneventful. Mercy did ask who my husband was. It made me laugh. Freedom quickly said we don't talk about that. We really don't talk about that in our house. I realized she really had no clue who Ian was, how could she, she was only a few weeks old. And the next youngest, Chas, she barely could remember some vague man who was around and than not. His loss. I kept saying that in my head all the way home. It pushed out any feeling of the blues I had for them not having a father.



When we got home a woman was there. Blonde, thin, bright blue eyes with freckles. Much younger than me.

"Can I help you? Are you lost? " I said as I told the girls to stay in the car and I ventured toward her.

"Are you Dani?"

"That was a lifetime ago." I replied. Been decades since someone called me that.

"Where is your birth mark?"

"Under my makeup? Do you need to see it for some reason?" Now I was getting annoyed. She doesn't seem like some long lost fan. I could only think of the millions of ways this young woman has come to mess with my life.

"You don't remember me?" she said hopeful.

Now I was starting to worry for my children. "Sorry? Should I? " I said as nonthreatening as I could. " I have meet a lot of people over the years. Maybe a hint?" Though something about her reminded me of someone. I couldn't put my finger on it, but what ever it was made me very uneasy and worry for my children.

" It was a long time ago. I suspect you wouldn't. I was only a little girl." She looked to the ground "No easy way to say this."

"Well, easier if you just spit it out and let the chips fall sometimes, I find." I replied in a friendly voice, hoping she wasn't carrying a weapon.

"Mom's dead, sis."