When we were little girls, my Uncle Tommy nicknamed my sister and me, Mad Dog & Claw. I was Mad Dog, she was Claw. He'd set up wrestling matches for us & give long, drawn out announcements before the match started. When the ding of the bell singled the start, we'd wrestle, like girls. There was a lot of giggling and hair pulling. There was a lot of , "Time out, time out, she kicked me hard that time!" I think my uncle longed for more nephews.
Today, I think a lot about these silly names my uncle made up to keep us entertained so many years ago. I wonder if he had any idea how relevant they'd be later in life. Because, I don't know a better Mad Dog or Claw than my sister and me.
My sister is fourteen months younger than me. Our childhood was spent playing. Real playing, the kind where your backyard or your living was transformed into a Barbie neighborhood or Lego land, because you made it that way with anything you could scavenge. Real playing, the kind where you were so lost in a make-believe world, you didn't know how it got to be dinner time so quickly. My sister was the best playmate because she got lost in that world with me. The things we played, the worlds we created... We played gymnastic championship on our front lawn in 1984 when Mary Lou Retton won Olympic gold. We made up a game called Wall Ball to play against the house on long summer afternoons. We decorated snow forts in the winter and made our own hills in the flat backyard. I think we actually believed our doll house families were alive! Their lives were our own personal soap opera.
Soon, we grew up and the differences in us became apparent. And even though we were interested in different things, we managed to stay close. There were many nights when I would sleep on her bedroom floor, just because I missed sharing a room with her.
In our early twenties, we decided to move out and rent our first apartment. I felt so lucky to have a sister who wanted to live with me and all my bad habits! Kara often acted more like the big sister, making sure we had groceries and that I had enough money to pay my share of the rent, or that I woke up from a bad hangover.
Life kept going, and changes came. I moved out of the apartment, to a new town. I bought a town home, Kara bought a condo. Kara was my maid-of-honor and the first person to bring me flowers the day my daughter was born.
All through life, my sister has been there. I have never known a moment without her. She is the little girl who cut my hair during The Three Stooges, the young girl I made up to go to junior high dances, the young lady who was brave enough to move across the country for college. She is the one person who I could always count on to simply be there.
On that fateful Thursday, she was the second person I called, only after my mother. She was the one who left work, drove an hour, and sat with me while I watched everything I thought I had fall away. She was the one who planned my future for me because she had the sense, the knowledge, the calm, and strength to do it. After all, she is Claw. And true to her name, she helped me claw back many parts of my life and make them all my own.
Now, it would seem reasonable that the story of Mad Dog and Claw end here. But, has the universe ever played that fair? Never. The story of Mad Dog and Claw was far from over.
and then.......
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