The Land of Forgotten Girls is about many things, but mostly it’s about sisters.
This is a picture of my sister, Anna, reading to me. Anna also taught me how to blow bubbles and how to roller skate. We read Chicken Little together and laughed over all the funny names of the animals.
Anna and I are very different creatures. She’s the one with the radiating smile. She says hello—or at least smiles—to anyone within eye contact. She never meets a stranger.
I’m the moody one. I like to blame it on “artistic temperament.”
I’m quiet, generally. Contemplative. Anna’s default setting is joyful and positive, even when times are rough. And she doesn’t just hold that joy for herself. As I said in an interview with my publisher: When Anna is part of your life, you are better for having known her.
Let me tell you about my sister.
She’s the first to come to the rescue—no questions asked. She approaches life (and people) without judgement. She’ll invite you to sit at her table if she sees you sitting by yourself. She cries at cheesy romantic movies. She tacks motivational messages to her bathroom mirror. She’s genuinely happy when good things happen to other people. She would break bread with you, even if she was starving.
My sister doesn’t always see her gifts; she’s just being herself. But I see them. So do many others. And that’s what matters most in life. It doesn’t matter how many material items you accumulate, how much money you have in your bank, or what kind of job you have. It’s about how people remember you—yesterday, today, and tomorrow. And I remember her well, every day.
Happy holidays, Foxy Loxy.