Sister Theresa

I recently discovered, by taking a Myers Briggs test, that I am an ENFP. The many extraneous details of ENFP don't really matter in this particular situation, except for one. I learned that, as part of my personality, I look for connections in random occurrences, find commonalities and search for meaning in local, or even global, situations that seem connected in some way.

The staggering thing is, I do that. A lot. Even if I don't know what the connections mean, I still recognize them, ponder over them, and wonder about a day when their meaning will become clear to me. The story that I'm about to share is one of those situations.
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My step-dad has twelve brothers and sisters; they were born in the 1930s/1940s and their parents were old-school Portuguese.

Their boys were encouraged to quit school, ceasing their educational careers, immediately after high school - or, maybe even sooner, I'm not sure - so that they could work, help out the family, pay for things. The girls were encouraged to get married so that they could leave the house, be dependent upon someone else for food on the table. It was all in the name of providing, of surviving.

They used to have a large family Christmas party every year, Uncle Joe would dress up as Santa, take pictures with the kids and hand out presents. They had to rent a hall there were so many people; brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, children, grandchildren, great grandchildren. I could never remember everyone.

Everyone's name, if you were one of the thirteen children referring to a sibling, was Brother (Insert Brother's Name Here) or Sister (Insert Sister's Name Here) as if they were nuns and... well, and, whatever the male equivalent is for "nun," I have no idea.

So, four years ago Sister Theresa came to Thanksgiving at my house. She doesn't have a husband, she doesn't have children, so, she chooses one of the thirteen to be thankful with every November. That particular year, it was our family.

When she arrived, she handed me a gift: a Christmas cactus. I love Christmas cacti. It could not have been a more perfectly chosen present.

Over the years, I came to realize that the Christmas cactus was actually two individual plants potted together and because of this, they would bloom at separate times. Which, is kind of nice because then I always got two blooms, at two different times, and they were two different colors. Red and pink.

It's been four years since I've seen Sister Theresa, the last time was at that Thanksgiving dinner. This month, I received word that this year Sister Theresa is going to come to my Thanksgiving. I can't help but think it's odd - and, I do mean odd in a good way - that both times I have had Thanksgiving dinner at my house, Sister Theresa has joined us.

Perhaps even more strikingly odd is that, as Thanksgiving nears, the buds on the Christmas cactus that Sister Theresa gave me are all plump and ripe with color, about to blossom, for the first time, simultaneously. For the first time, ever, the flowers on both plants will bloom at the same time, during my second Thanksgiving with Sister Theresa.

Is it just my ENFP-ness, or isn't that kind of cool?