Sisters, marriage and rants, oh my

Yesterday I spoke to my sister while on my way home from work. I had to hear it from her how she was doing.

"This is the worst pain I've ever felt. Worse even than kidney stone pain."

"Wow, you know I feel you on that. Do you have anything for it?"

"Yeah, the hospital gave me Percocet. I took two last night."

"What?! Those things are pretty strong, are you sure that was alright?"

"Yeah, besides, I wasn't feeling any pain after that!"

"I should think not."

"I'm sorry. I feel like I let everyone down."

"Sorry?! For what? Look, these things happen for a reason. There must have been something not right going on and your body recognized it. And I know you have probably heard this a million times now, but you're only 21. Plenty of time for more kids."

"I know, I know."

"Alright then, hang in there, o.k.? I've got to go. Love you."

"Love you too."

It's taken us 27 years, the implosion of our parents' marriage and her moving 8 hours away for us to get to the point where we end our conversations like that. I wish she was here for me to talk to her face to face. To help her through this. I can't stand it when my sister is hurting.

By the way, who decided that a woman isn't whole unless she has a husband and children? Why are we made to feel that if we don't grow up, snag a man and have little ones running around we're less of a person? It pisses me off. Men don't have that kind of pressure put on them. They are taught to celebrate their singledom. Bastards. Such a double standard.

I refuse to fall into it. Yeah, I may whine about being single and not having anyone to snuggle up to at night (Mr. Friday night was an excellent snuggler, by the way) but I will not fall into this trap that I must get married, I must have kids and I must own the cute little Cape Cod with a picket fence.

No way, no how.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled drivel.