We are 3 ½ years apart. I was the “look at me” child. She was the quiet one. She has blonde hair. I have brown. She is tall. I am average height. She tans. Her nickname for me is “Casper.” I love musicals, music and drama. She loves sports.
People see us on the street and say there is no way we can be related. We can be as different at night and day and instantly, the same.
She is my sister and she is a part of me.
Growing up, I was always the sensitive one. She was the harder one. I cried easily (still do). She rolled her eyes and offered a tough stare, even as a young child. In fact, the only times I really remember her crying as a child was when I hurt her (throwing brushes across the room will do that to a person.)
We fought a lot. But we created amazing memories in our playtimes too. In fact, now that I take the time to look back on it, we didn’t really start fighting until I got to middle school and full on in high school. As kids, we would make up games (remember rides, KK?) and play pretend. When she was really little, I would make up songs and sing her to sleep. If she asked for a song about kittens and rainbows, then I made one up. We had sleep-over’s in each others room. We spent many summers eating cereal in front of the TV while we watched The Price is Right. We played “bridge” on the beds at my grandmother’s house.
There was a short period of time when we weren’t really close. I guess actually it was a few years. At the time I didn’t really notice it. I was in college; she was high school. Our lives were different.
Today, my sister is my friend. She pushes me to think of things in new ways. She is still harder than me but the older she gets (gosh, I make it sound like she’s 80) she softens up too. Inside, she’s really just a sensitive softy like me. I think we get that from our mother.
My sister loves fiercely and is incredibly loyal. She’ll stand by you regardless and fight tooth and nail against anyone who offers up negativity about you. She pushes everyone to do better, be better. She’ll call you out in a second if she thinks something is off. Sometimes it hurts, but it’s raw honesty and you can’t argue with that.
My sister is hilarious. I like to think that I’m sort of funny, but she always reminds me that “no” I’m not funny; she’s the funny one. She makes jokes, funny faces, tells ridiculous stories and always has our family in stiches. The Bug giggles within seconds of her visits.
Speaking of home, right now I am over the moon. My sissy is coming home. Moving home after over 10 years in another city. I can go see her whenever I want. She’ll be here for the birth of my second child. My son can have visits whenever he (or she) wants.I don’t really have any more words. My heart is full.