SISTER PALOOZA!

Since we're deep into Fall, it's probably time to write my annual "What I Did During My Summer Vacation" post. Based on my Instagram, I spent the season with my feet propped up on various coffee tables while drinking wine. Facebook, on the other hand, tells the story of a woman struggling to overcome home renovations and an ungrateful grand-cat. Though accurate, neither of these platforms fully embraced the most important event of the Summer of 2019: Sister-Palooza: Florida Edition.

The Plan

When our mother passed away last year, my sisters and I decided that we needed to take a trip in her memory. We knew where we wanted to go - the Gulf Coast town in Florida where our parents owned a home for 25 years. The "when" was a little more complicated. As my older sister is retired and I'm a kept woman, the date of the trip was not an issue for us. But the younger two have jobs and responsibilities and blah-blah-blah boring. Coming up with a time-frame for our adventure was challenging but, being the sisters that we are, it only took a few dramatically slammed doors and one "Is that my shirt you're wearing?" before we agreed that the ideal time to be in sub-tropical Florida was the first week in August.

With the details in place, it was time for one of my favorite traveling activities: competitive packing. Not to boast, but, if pressed, I can pack for an entire week in a mid-sized purse. This trip, I knew the younger two weren't going to be a threat to my title, as one would bring an assortment of clothes to cover every possible event, including a ballgown in case we're invited to the Governor's Mansion. The other would tote a large enough suitcase to accommodate both her hair products and a spare bag in which to stow all the shopping purchases she'd be making. So, it was down to the my older sister and I. Our idea of a "possible event" is a trip to the ER for blowing out a knee and, at our age, "hair products" are called "hats." I packed with care, folding every t-shirt into a compact cube, stuffing socks and underwear into the pockets of shorts, deciding I could get away with only one extra pair of shorts and a top IF I did laundry ever day. That seemed like a fair trade-off for the bragging rights I would get for being the lightest packer. So, imagine my surprise when I arrived at the airport, and we all had the exact-same sized carry-on. Of course, I handled this defeat with my usual grace.

The flight down was uneventful, unless you were a fellow passenger. While the older sister opted to let the airline choose her seat, three of us paid good money to sit next to one another. This meant that the people on that plane were all within hearing distance of our bull-horn volume chatter. By the time we disembarked, everyone on Allegiant Air Flight 796 knew all of our business. Oh, and if you are friend or family to any of us, they might know a little bit of your business as well. Since these cheap airlines offer no form of entertainment, we filled that gap and were happy to do it!

The merriment continued at the grocery store where we stopped to pick up a week's worth of supplies. When we arrived at the check-out with four (one for each) boxes of wine, the cashier did not even bat an eye. After all, a. Florida b. We announced we were sisters c. We informed her we were on vacation. She gave us a "say no more" wink and rang up our purchases. We shouted our way to the parking lot and joyfully loaded the wine into the trunk. After all, remember:

The plan.

After dinner that first night, we decided to take a stroll on the beach since it had finally cooled down to a chilly 98 degrees. This is where the age differences took their toll. While the younger two could walk in the surf, unhindered by the dramatic slope of the shore, my older sister and I had to use the solid path above them so that our hips and knees would remain intact for the duration. We also wore expensive elder-shoes while the youngsters were in slim, cute, totally pointless sandals. Nonetheless, we all made it back to the condo to begin our night of debauchery! But, first, we each had to use the bathroom because of middle-aged bladders. Then, we had to take our medications just in case we should forget what with all the partying we had planned.  Finally, clad in pajamas with proper wrinkle-reduction creams applied, we poured out the first round of drinks! Twenty minutes later we were all:

By the end of the week, we realized that "The Plan" had turned into "The Reality." Reality consisted of soaking up the sun (while thoroughly coated in sun screen, large hats, and cover-ups,) for 10-minute intervals before hopping into the bathtub-warm swimming pool to "cool off." This was followed by going to dinner before 5 p.m. to "beat the crowds." (Author's note: There were no "crowds." We were just hungry.) Afterwards, there would be the mandatory sun-set viewing followed by the pouring of the 1 1/2 glasses of wine we consumed each night.  Before we all scooted off to bed at 9 p.m., we pinky-swore that, "We're staying up late, tomorrow night!" But, the sun, salt-air, surf, and days spent laughing turned us into the opposite of vampires. As soon as the sun went down over the Gulf, we:

Things had certainly changed since the trips of our youth when we'd get up early to hunt the beach for sharks' teeth, walk to town for breakfast, stay up late drinking by the pool. In those days, we made the

traditional run to the gift shops to laugh about the alligator heads, the rubber sharks, the coconut pirates. We complained that, if we didn't get into town before 9 p.m. for ice cream, all the streets were rolled up for the night.  Best of all, we wasted our money on the psychic who ran her business off the highway.

But, none of that matters, anymore. The point to the trip was to be together - as sisters, as Peg's girls, as the four people who know each other better than anyone in the world. It was about saying, through laughter, tears, and getting four forks to share dessert each night, that we love one another. It was about recognizing that life is short, so grab every sunset. It was about acknowledging that empty spot in the pictures we took that used to be filled by our late brother. It was about saying goodbye to what used to be so that we could embrace what is. In other words, it was exactly the trip our mother would have wanted us to take. So, we raised our glasses to her, Peg: Mother of Divas, and we know that, somewhere, she was returning the favor. #PowersGirls4Ever

My sisters and I, August 2019