Ever since our father died, my three sisters and I have been working at getting together once a year. We’re far flung (Ohio, NY, South Carolina and Maine), so there is indeed effort involved. Last year everyone came to my house for my child’s wedding celebration. In 2024 we met for a long weekend in Seneca Falls. This year we traveled to my sister Ellen’s husband’s family house in Martha’s Vineyard. After some initial travel hiccups, we were finally all together again. We spent five days there. We talked. We walked. We went into the different towns and browsed and shopped. We hung out at the beach. We ate a lot (with an emphasis on chocolate and popcorn). We reminisced and we laughed. Above all, we just thoroughly enjoyed being four sisters together.

Now our time was over and, other than Ellen, who was extending her time there, we were all heading back to our respective homes. As I drove north toward Maine, texts with updates kept pinging in periodically. I listened to Siri read them:

And then later on…

I imagined each of us as small dots with a flight path, all starting out from Martha’s Vineyard. Although one dot remained temporarily in Martha’s Vineyard, the rest of us were arcing out and farther and farther away from each other. It made me not quite sad, but definitely melancholy. I was ready to be home, but not yet ready to be away from my sisters.

It struck me as I was writing this, that in a much more significant sense, we really did all start out in one place and then journeyed away. We share a common origin and all the stories and memories that come along with it. Now we have added yet another common point and more memories to share.

I’m so thankful.