My Pretty Sister

I hate the term sister-in-law. I just do not like it. Especially since I have such a great sister-in-law. My parents had two sons and no daughters, and I always felt like we were missing someone. Luckily, after an "average shoestore romance," my brother gave me a sister in our Lynne.

Lynne and I can talk for hours. Lynne and I laugh a lot. Lynne rubs my back and makes cookies. I do research for her occasionally, and I tease her about her one bad movie choice. I go outside with her itn he freezing cold when she smokes, if only because I am sure she is quitting this year. She talks about her sister Lisa to me so much, and she talks about me so much to Lisa, it was like Lisa and I knew each other, even though we only met at the wedding.

I never liked calling her sister-in-law. Never. So I usually just refer to them as my brother and sister. It confuses people sometimes, since technically, I don't have a sister.

I have a long history of close friendships. It goes way beyond the usual straight-girl-gay-boy friendships. It's deeper than the Steven-Fallon Carrington sibling bond. I guess I have always wanted a sister.

A few years ago, Belle du Jour was re-released, and Lynne and I went to see it. It seems only fitting that it was during this film I learned of the word the French use for in-law. Belle soeur means "prettty sister." And that's exactly what it is. So much nicer than cognata, or schwegenschwester. She's my pretty sister, and we're lucky to have her. It's rare you feel an "in-law" completes a family. So I am very lucky indeed.

Everyone should have a sister.


Copyright (c) 1998, Seth J. Bookey, New York, NY 10021, sethbook@panix.com