The secret language of sisters

Camille and Abby were playing Cadoo this morning, and Camille got a little frustrated when Abby couldn’t guess what her drawings were.

It will come. Here’s how I know. Sisters have a secret language that grows over time when they’re close and they share a lot of experiences.

We grew up in a fairly modest household. We had a garden that supplied a lot of our food. My mom canned and froze the food, and she made most of our clothes. We didn’t have a lot, but we did have games, and we made up a lot of our entertainment. We didn’t really even realize how much closeness we were building. It just was.

And it lasts. A few years ago, we were all together as a family with our husbands, playing Pictionary. They wanted to do a guys versus girls match.

Big mistake. While they scribbled and looked entreatingly at each other as the sand ran out of the hourglass, we’d get two lines on the paper and one of the others would guess it in a flash.

My brother-in-law Steve (whose drawings were all good but comically small, about the size of a postage stamp) was stunned, and vaguely suspicious. “How could you guess ANYTHING from that?” he’d say.

We just knew. We know how each one thinks, processes, expresses. My mom, too. She’s the one who started it all, and was always there, able to create fun out of nothing at all.

So I think that at this point, it’s only a matter of Camille’s drawing skills and time. Time together. It’s already started.

“Hey, Abby,” Camille said the other day. “Let’s do that…game.” She waved her hand in a vague circle.

“Yeah!” Abby said, and off they went, perfectly in tune about what they were doing.

They’re on their way.