Mhis sister was my pillar, my sis, I thought we were inseparable. She and I have always been close. She’s three years older than me, and we grew up together in an apartment in town. We often played in the courtyard of the building, where there were many kids our age. In childhood, we shared everything, including good hair pulling, when I was about ten years old, for trifles: a messy game, an anecdotal shouting match, classic. As a teenager, I was the little sister she dragged everywhere with her friends. I admired them, I was proud to be with them, I was like everyone’s little sister. That’s when we really bonded. Later, when I had just separated from my daughter’s father, it was with her that I found comfort.
Today, we live 4 kilometers apart in Puy-de-Dôme. Our girls are very close, they spend holidays and weekends together. This closeness between cousins is close to my heart. Every Christmas we get together. Last year, in 2020, my partner, my youngest daughter and I were invited to my sister’s house, her partner and their 14 year old daughter. On December 23, my sister and I went shopping together. We had fun. We bought caviar – not expensive, because we are from modest families. But we are in our 40s, we work, we thought we could afford it. We also had oysters, good wine, a bottle of champagne. My sister likes to cook, she prepared a good sauce for the roast.
On the 24th, everything started well. We settled down for dinner, ate and drank a little. Around 10:30 p.m., Santa Claus came by – it’s evening for us. We left the table, we put on some music. The girls have unwrapped their gifts and mine, who is 8 years old, has gone to play with hers. It was a special Christmas for my sister: she had planned to take her partner and their daughter to New York, a very nice present, which was important to her. It was to be their first stay there. For his daughter, the surprise was complete.
The gunpowder fire
At that time, we are good together. We talk, we mess around a bit, I start dancing. The others return to the table for dessert. When I join them, the conversation has deviated to Didier Raoult. My brother-in-law idolizes him, he supports him enormously, he believes a lot in hydroxychloroquine. I don’t judge him: I don’t know anything about politics. I do not advance on these subjects. My companion and I obey the instructions, some would say like little sheep, but I am not in one camp or another. Whereas my brother-in-law is very politically engaged. He easily catches fire in conversations.
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