It seems impossible, with sisters like Tori and Annalise, that there isn’t something I’m exceptionally good at. But with each new epic fail, it became harder and harder for me to believe that I possessed an adeptness for anything at all. Even so, I kept signing up to try out for things because of Mom’s mantra of “Keep trying!” or “Your perseverance will pay off eventually!”

This did not turn out to be good advice for someone like me, and sixth grade became a long, arduous year.

I planned to spend my summer searching for that overlooked aptitude that just had to be inside me somewhere. That way, I’d have time to master and perfect it before the start of seventh grade. But now, just because I’m not off at sports camp like Tori or participating in the downtown music conservatory like Annalise this summer, Mom has recruited me for her OSSS mission. So, I don’t see how I’ll have time to discover any hidden talents that might be lurking below the surface somewhere deep inside me.

Love,

Me

Dear Me,

I really wish you had been there to see Mom’s face when we spotted Gram in the baggage-claim area when we landed in Florida.

(Oh, that’s right, technically you were there.)

Anyway, Gram was easy to spot, that was for sure—a baggy, bright, orange-juice-colored T-shirt with the words, “Sunshine Sisters” printed on it and sparkly silver and gold flip-flops with foofy, plastic flowers on them.

This was not at all the way Gram looked when she used to greet us in the doorway of her old house as she made sure we took off our shoes outside the door so as not to dirty up her beloved white carpeting.

Gram told us we were “a sight for sore eyes,” and enveloped Mom and me (at the same time) in a huge hug, squeezing us both so tight I felt like she was trying to deflate us. When she finally let go, Mom and I both told Gram how glad we were to see her.

(Her hug really did make me glad to see her.)

“So, ‘Sunshine Sisters,’ Mother? Who are they?” Mom said stepping back from Gram and looking at her shirt.

Mom asked the question so casually that anyone who didn’t know her would never realize there were many more questions hammering around in her head, like “Why aren’t you wearing a sensible pair of sandals instead of those gaudy flip-flops?” or “What made you think it was a good idea to go out in public dressed in a sloppy T-shirt instead of something more prudent, like a nice polo or pullover?”