Pillow Presents

For as long as I can remember, I've shared a bedroom. It isn't always easy having someone in your space, but what incredible richness it has brought to my life. Life skills were learned, negotiation techniques mastered & sisterly bonds formed within the confines of shared sleeping quarters.

Sometime before I entered the 5th grade, Laurie and I began this adventure. My parents had purchased a 4 bedroom home. The 3 girls no longer were grouped together. My brother and older sister now had the privilege of residing in their own rooms. This left Laurie and I very unhappy with the new arrangement.

We had our ups and downs, but when we climbed into bed at night, we became comrades. We'd lie awake discussing how we could divide the room to give each of us our own separate space. We chattered about our day, commiserated about the struggles with certain friends, or expressed our secret fondness for a really cute boy. We'd tickle each others feet to see who would be the first to flinch. We laughed and laughed. We needed that physical contact but even more, we needed to connect. It didn't matter what we might have argued about earlier in the day. At bedtime, we became best friend sisters.

I don't recall exactly when it happened. It might have been Laurie's birthday. Maybe not. But one night, I left a note on her pillow. It said something like, "In order to find your very next clue, look around the room for something blue." I'd made a scavenger hunt of sorts for her. At the end of the hunt, she was directed back to her pillow. Underneath it, I had placed a small treasure.

That was the beginning of pillow presents. It wasn't every night, although in the summer it sometimes was. One or both of us would make, create, or find a treasure for the other. I was better at it than she was. I was supposed to be. I was older. I loved making scavenger hunts and they always had to rhyme. Laurie made up a few too, and it was ok that they didn't rhyme. Laurie's favorite pillow presents to give me were tamales. No, not red hot tamales candy. We're talking honest-to-goodness tamales. My mom (usually with our help) would make 12 dozen tamales around Christmas time each year. She'd cook them up a dozen at a time for dinner. If any were left over in the 'fridge I received a tamale under my pillow that night. I still can't eat tamales without thinking of them as pillow presents.

Last week, on Hilary's birthday, I saw her walking around searching. I wondered what she was doing. She was on a scavenger hunt Elisabeth and Sarabeth had created for her very late the night before. At the end were some small gifts they'd purchased. (You can see one of them in the wordless wednesday photo.) That was when the pillow present memories came flooding back to me. What richness comes to sisters who have shared a bedroom. Makes me feel sorry for only children and those who have small families and never had to learn to "live" with one another.

P.S. (My dad was/is an only, and he always told us to have more than one. I did my best to have a houseful.)