I’m a firm nonbeliever in the cliché that a picture is worth a thousand words. Pictures are worth as many words as everything that is in them and the emotions that you feel. A picture of a concrete slab won’t elicit much out of most people. Pictures of those we love and know evoke a myriad of different emotions and memories.
Just glimpsing at this photo and you don’t see too much, this picture might not be worth a thousand words to you.
I could turn this picture into a novel.
Skimming through our pull-out drawers of photographs taught me many things: fashion wasn’t really fashionable in the late 90’s, I was more of a tomboy than I thought I was, and my family is pretty darn tight. The majority of the pictures I saw were of us just being our silly selves.
And that’s what my little Goober and I are doing: just being us. We don’t always agree, but sisterhood is a scared bond. It’s a rubber band: it changes, stretches, and relaxes. It is always in some state of use, but it is never worn out or broken. Sometimes the band is stretched too far and it slams into itself, but the band (our bond) recovers and bounces back.
We always come back to our equilibrium and rejoin our hands.