There once was a woman whose sister visited her in Poland with her four children. They played and had fun for two weeks, after which the visiting sister left. Her absence left the woman asking the question, "who's going to wash the dishes now?"
Having pondered this question without finding a satisfactory answer, the woman walked away from the sinkful of dishes and headed to the computer, where she decided to write down a few memories from the family-filled two weeks.
She recounted the sweetness of her nieces and nephew. She remembered watching them play with her own four children and delighting in the quality cousin time, on this, the first time they had ever had cousins visit in their home. She recalled the billions of hugs she had been given. As a non-hugger, she was surprised at how much she loved all the love.
She documented memories of her sister washing the dishes, helping with the cooking, taking care of all the children and constantly looking for ways to be of help.
She thought back to a conversation:
Woman: I know it's weird that we eat in the living room, in front of the TV. We're so Simpson-esque.
Sister: Yeah... Wait, did they eat in front of the TV... No, they ate around the kitchen table! You're WORSE than the Simpsons!!
She was amazed at how, after a week of eating things like cake, pie, cookies and muffins, her sister announced that she only had a few weeks left until her 40th birthday, and she wanted to be at her target weight. The sister immediately started in on the Dukan diet (the one the woman's husband had used to lose 35 pounds in 6 weeks). She completely ignored the woman's next week of dinners and treats in favor of lots of yogurt, eggs, tuna, and oat bran.
The woman had lovely memories of a power outage, a patriotic holiday, castles, underground tunnels, old town squares, ornate churches and lots of ice cream shared with family. She relived attending church in her own little branch--meeting in the missionaries' apartment--as it overflowed with children who all attended the one-class "Primary" in the living room.
She didn't write much detail, but just the act of typing it up was nice. And a little sad. She missed her sister. And still didn't know who was going to wash the dishes.