I have two and a half sisters.
Brigitte is 15 years older and lives in Germany. She was raised by my grandmother and only speaks German. My German isn't so good, so communication is hard. Yet I love her dearly and visit as often as possible, which isn't often enough. She has three children, four grand-children and one great-granddaughter.
Linda is six years older. Her birthday was yesterday. She wanted to be a writer and ended up working for an insurance company. She's a Pentacostalist, so we don't talk politics often. Actually, we don't talk as often as we should. She and her husband live in Richmond, Va., with their 19-year-old son, who has spent too much time in the South (a bit racist, Republican and red-necked replete with tattoos).
Annaliese is four years older than me. She lives in Lexington, Ky., with her husband and son, Herman, who's 11. In recent years, she's become a stage mother in the Rose mold, pushing her son into competition after competition. He wins many of them, because he has an angelic prepubescent voice, plays excellent French horn and percussion, and can ham it up. What happens after his voice changes will be another story. What happens when he finally tells her no will also be another story.
