When my sister Carrie was born, my dad lifted me up so I could gaze upon all the newborns in the nursery. I was going on 4 at the time, and I had no clue which baby belonged to us. In that moment, I thought they were all ours!
As she grew, I became her interpreter. If she babbled something, grown ups would then focus on me, in order to decipher what she said. It would go something like this:
Carrie: “I ihpohenh sdfihe9ohy afhoeh.”
Me: “She said she is thirsty. She only wants pop. A big glass of it. And she said I should get a glass, too. And maybe some cake. Am I pushing it if I ask for candy?”
We were inseparable. I felt in so many ways like I was a mother to her. It was a very close bond between us, although at times we could become competitive. In one home movie, as we chilled in our grandparent’s hot tub, I would perform some fancy move under water (which was really just me dunking my head while pinching my nose) and she’d say, “I can do that.” She’d then place her whole body into the water to out do what I’d just done, and as she came back up for air, I’d tell her, “I can do that.” We would do this back and forth. It made for some fun times I’m sure for our grandparents.
Then we hated each other. Blame it on puberty. I grew tired of her borrowing my shirts and somehow staining them. She was annoyed by my overtly girly behavior when it came to BOYS. At the time, she was into lizard and frog hunting with our dad. I had my first boyfriend, and was learning how to make a fool of myself while attempting to be a woman.
I know, I was ridiculous.
In our late teens/early 20’s, we couldn’t stand to be around each other for more than a day. We’d always get into a blow up about something really stupid and petty, but because of our age we were very self absorbed. I don’t think we understood each other well, if at all. Love was there. We’ve been through so much together that there’s no way our sister bond was destroyed. But it was thin.
As we got older, we each had to go through our own trials in life. And we started talking to each other again, not just as sisters or relatives, but as friends. We’d vent. We’d cry. Sometimes we’d just shoot the shit. After having her son Ayden two years ago, we relied on each other even more for guidance, and strength. I found I needed her advice more than I ever thought I would when it came to Nolan.
She is a beautiful woman; when we are spending time together, everyone assumes she’s my older sister, because she’s so put together and is a sharp dresser. I look like the unkempt, messy little sister.
She’s one of my closest friends, my sister. It’s nice to say that, and mean it.
So anyway, enough of my ramble. Carrie, I hope you have a fantastic day today- and you get to celebrate turning 30 with gusto, and grace. Much love to you, little sis!