Sister Day

So much gratitude for this made-up holiday.

My sister and I spent the day together yesterday.

Every couple of weeks (months?) we embark on what we’ve coined Sister Day. This is when we take the day off from work, meet up early at Irene’s place Uptown, and after I’ve played with my kitty nephew, Henry, we set off to do a whole lot of nothing—which is precisely the point. No real agenda, just a loose idea of where we’ll go, a bulleted list of discussion topics at the ready. Sister Days have looked different throughout the years, but they share several fundamentals.

No kitties were harmed in the making of this selfie.

First, this is Sister Day, not Come-With-Me-to-Run-Errands Day. That second type of day is when she visits me (and the family) in New Jersey. Inevitably, to her great annoyance (and who can blame her), she’ll accompany us to the supermarket or Home Depot or another similarly boring place. “Can you do this on your own time?” lol

Also, Sister Day only takes place in New York City. We’ve considered opening it up to other family members, i.e. Siblings Day, Sister and Nieces Day, etc., but we’re too protective of our time so for now, applications are closed.

No, this is a day (always a weekday, because hanging out on a Tuesday still feels like a thrill) for walking, talking, laughing, eating, living. Lunch is non-negotiable, as is me walking on the left and Irene on the right. Our pace must match or else one of us reprimands the other for speed-walking. We don’t run “to catch” the light or the subway. (I’ve tried. It’s a definite no-no.) We track our steps with our Peloton timers and set off to a museum or Central Park or by the Hudson River. We’ve done Washington Heights days, Village days, Upper West Side days. They’re all perfect days.

We talk and talk and talk. And take selfies. And try not to complain about the weather. (Except for that one exceptionally hot October day last year, where I had to remove my sweater and sit on a bench at Little Island in just my tank top. “Did you not look at the weather before leaving your house?!” she asked. No, I replied, sweat tricking down my back. “I was hoping you’d tell me the weather before I left!”)

I am older by almost six years. Still, I prefer that she prepare me for the weather.

When we tire of walking, we stop for coffee/wine/pastries. When we tire of talking, we walk in silence. And like the good daughters that we are, we always call our mother.

“Hi, Ma!!!” we say in unison into the speakerphone.

“Y que, mis hijas!” I know she loves that we’re together.

For yesterday’s Sister Day, we had lunch at our favorite Indian restaurant Uptown. This is the same restaurant where, on a regular, non-Sister Day, she and I had such a giggle fit that my husband had to apologize on our behalf.

Irene shared stories about her running club’s NYC Marathon cheer section, and I updated her on our four-year old niece’s funny new way of talking. “Patricia—can I tell you something?” She’s in her sassy girl era.

I then told her that I’d just started reading Eckhart Tolle’s “The Power of Now” and was already finding it helpful. Irene asked me for an example of one of my future-facing worries. I teared up thinking of something happening to my kids.

“Oh, my God! Are you going to cry over something that hasn’t happened?! I’m telling Mami.”

Only a sister on Sister Day can lovingly snap you out of your anxieties. She suggested we visit the bookstore, next. And maybe get a dirty chai. Back at her apartment, she schooled me on The Housewives of New York. I don’t get the appeal, but the show makes her delirously happy so I tried to listen and learn. When it was time to head home, she gifted me (!!) “The Look,” Michelle Obama’s gorgeous new coffee table book. Irene had gone to Mrs. Obama’s podcast event featuring Tracee Ellis Ross earlier this week. She must’ve observed me reading it, deep in the photos and text.

Knowing that I’d get a kick of out this, Irene told me a little anecdote from the night.

“Michelle was talking about growing up with layaway. She asked the audience if they remembered layaway and everyone started clapping. Then she looked at Tracee and was like, well, your mother is Diana Ross so you definitely don’t know about layaway. Tracee laughed and said, sorry!! It was funny.”

I remember layaway. I also remember wishing for days like yesterday.

Thank you, Sister.

I always get a little gift on Sister Day! This was a good one.

I was there! The First Lady’s Fashion Education Workshop at the White House in 2014.