09-04-26

Kansas Snapshots by Gloria Freeland - September 4, 2026

Extraordinary nature of ordinary days

Sister Gaila has lived in Bolivia since 1983. Last month, two grandsons were added to her and hubby Humberto's family. With one in Kansas City and the other in Virginia, there were bound to be logistical problems planning a visit.

And then there was me! I wanted to see my sister too!

Luckily, we were able to carve out a two-week period for some quality sister time.

Gaila and I are separated by 16 months and 4,200 miles. But while social media is great, nothing compares with being face-to-face. In the 43 years since she moved to Bolivia, we've never missed getting together during any of them.

Our meeting this year was certainly unique. I had been trying for two days to get home from Wisconsin, but bad weather near Chicago meant flight cancellation after flight cancellation. Then husband Art had an idea: why not avoid Chicago altogether and re-schedule through Dallas? I could then fly with Gaila on the final leg of her La Paz-Santa Cruz-Miami-Dallas-Manhattan journey.

It worked great, even if we had to spend the short flight huddled together in sweatshirts because the plane was so cold. We certainly didn't have to worry about feeling chilly once we arrived, as the temperature was in the 90s.

Gaila's two-week stay went by quickly. Some days involved routine doctor appointments. While not very exciting, it was still fun to share the time together, commiserating about our ailments; hers was a sore knee, mine was tiredness.

But we laughed too, particularly about our hearing loss. When we were out grocery shopping, Gaila said she wanted to buy sweet corn.

"Be sure you get the bi-color corn," I said. "It’s usually sweeter."

"Bipolar corn?" she responded. "What’s that?"

We both chuckled when we sorted it out while other shoppers wondered what was so funny.

We ran other errands, including dropping off recyclables, getting our hair cut, and shopping for craft items.

Many days, we went through boxes filled with our family's history. We found early-1900s pictures of our farm; dad's grade cards from school; pen-and-ink sketches mom did when she was young; cards and letters to and from relatives and friends, and so on.

When brother Dave and his companion Marilyn came to town, we reminisced about growing up on the farm and shared the latest news about our kids and grandkids.

We joined daughter Mariya, her wife Miriam and granddaughter Diana at the weekly farmers' market, ate cinnamon rolls at the mall, enjoyed Miriam's meals, ordered in food a couple of times, and read books and played Legos with Diana.

Gaila and I met with some of my gal pals for a tailgate-themed lunch. We ate with Gaila's college roommate Stacey and hubby Jim and had coffee with our friend Bryce.

In the evenings, we watched old movies, accompanied by our favorite childhood treats of cold milk and Oreos or chocolate-chip cookies.

When I reflect on those two weeks, none of the things we did qualifies as "something to write home about." Still, it was their very ordinariness that made them special - two sisters enjoying simple days of reminiscing about the past, living in the present, and pondering what the future will be like.

Our time together reminded me a bit of Emily - a character in Thornton Wilder’s play "Our Town." After her death following the birth of her second child, her spirit returns for a short time as her 12-year-old self and sees her life in a new light. She laments the fact that people don't appreciate life while we still have it.