One part of my life I feel luckiest for is having a sister.
When I was born, mine brought a dandelion to the hospital to greet me with, clutched in her tiny, toddler fingers.
Every day after that, my sister – who is two years older than me – was my everything, and everything I wanted to be when I reached her age.
She was brave, goofy, smart, caring and fiery. I was such a big fan, and I still am, though I’ve thankfully become less like a puppy bumbling after its person and turning functionless when they’re gone.
In my defense, we were awesome playmates.
We grew up crafting intricate worlds for our dolls and stuffed animals, then running around outside, digging holes to bury pencil boxes of plastic bracelets – the perfect pirate’s treasure – or chasing each other across the yard.
We were each other’s duet partners in constant renditions of the “Frozen” soundtrack – like many sister pairs of our generation. Clearly it’s overtly exciting to be a sister and watch a movie about princess sisters.
As teenagers we binged horror movies and sitcoms, eating bowls of ice cream and arguing over who had to scoop it – which my sister always did. Thanks for that.
We fought a lot more over the stupidest things, but bonded over school crushes and anxieties.
Then, when my big sister graduated and embarked on the fantastic college adventure, I made it about me in classic younger-sister fashion, crying all night long and for several days after that.
On her adventure, my sister fell in love with the Enchantment State, in love with my brother-in-law – he’s super cool, by the way – and in love with three adorable cats.
At first I was grumpy about it. I missed her, I wanted her home, and I most definitely was not used to sharing her attention.
I wanted all our old routines to come back, even our silly arguments if it meant I could rap on her door to annoy her or scream-sing in the car while she drove us to Target.
But in the years since, I’d like to think I’ve matured a lot, and I’ve become so grateful for my long distance relationship with my sister.
What we do together has changed, but not by much. We still watch horror movies, starting them on separate screens at the same time.
Three, two, one, click!
We FaceTime to do yoga and to rant about our problems or do little crafts. And often during the holidays or over summer, we get to do all those things again in-person.
Time and distance can force you to shed some of the most wonderful relationships in exchange for positive change, like a cicada leaving behind its faint and papery skeleton.
One moment out of nowhere, you might remember and miss a forgotten connection that meant so much when it was strong, but still faded so quietly.
Yet while I grow farther apart with some childhood friends, I am constantly comforted by the knowledge that I will always have my big sister – to talk to when I am bored, to vent with, to laugh with and to frustrate.
I will never not have my sister as my longest lifetime friend.
Yesterday was her birthday, and three days before that was National Sister Day. Although I wasn’t there to watch her blow the candles out on some whipped cream topped birthday pancakes, I’ll always celebrate her.
It’s my lifelong tie to my sister that improved my relationship with change and prepares me for new challenges. So for the other younger siblings out there, I can only wish for you that your big sisters are as cool as mine.
