I love hearing memories and stories about my sister, Lisa.
I received one of the best gifts ever in my FaceBook message box and the author said I could share it here. I of course jumped at the chance. If you have a story to share, I can always post it anonymously, as this one is. The descriptions of my sister are beautiful and right on. It’s like the author perfectly captured how the world saw Lisa. So here it is:
I’ve been reading your blog and wanted to tell you a story about your sister — from Brookfield Swim Club Swim Team.
I was just a chunky kid on the team. That’s me on the high dive in the pic. I gradutated CHS in 87 so that would make me around 5 years younger than Lisa. All the “older kids” were quite scary, much bigger than us younger ones. Eddie L., Jannelle, Lisa, they all hung out together during practice. I remember your sister’s beautiful, blonde curls — how they would sparkle in the sun. And her eyes….gosh her eyes.
The day we took the team photo we had practice in the am — at least the older kids. The youngers (me included) hadn’t started our laps yet. Your sister was in early that morning, swimming our warm-ups. We took multiple photos that morning. At one point, she quickly jumped in the pool feet first, toes pointed, hands by her sides, curls streaming behind her since she’d dried off in the morning sun. She was embarrassed with the way her suit was drying over her chest. Eddie was teasing her as I remember. They took several photos before the one I posted — but the one we received she was wet in. She had barettes in her hair and since it’s wet you can’t appreciate the golden glow nor see the curls as much.
How I remember her: Laughing and giggling with Jannelle and Eddie, friendly, sunny smile, slight freckles on her shoulders from the sun, sometimes sunburned, golden hair and curls that she tried with much vigor to tuck into her swim cap. She taught me to scoop up a large cap of water to help put the cap on, water streaming down her face, over her shoulders, with a huge grin on her face as she began tucking, tucking, tucking that hair. She had the body we all craved for at her age, and was sometimes slightly shy. She offered to help me with my turns. She stayed late one day after practice. All the younger girls wanted to be like her — she is beautiful.