She was my little shadow, begging me to slow down when I ran through the woods with a best friend. She’d beg me to tell her another story, even though it was well past our bed-time. We’d sit at the end of her bed, bouncing up and down, while imagining that we were settlers riding a horse-drawn carriage. We played duets on the piano, practiced ballet in the living room, decorated Thanksgiving cookies every fall, and played dress-up with my mom’s nicest clothes.
We had our share of squabbles, like sisters will do from time to time. She used to pinch me as hard as she possibly could, claiming that she was pretending to be a doctor giving a shot. And shots hurt. There was the time that my brother and I tied her to a tree in the front yard and ‘forgot’ to untie her. Or the other time that we told her to drink some tree sap, because we said it would taste like golden, sweet honey. It didn’t.
She liked to tattle. And sometimes, she liked to give away her favorite stuffed animals, only to want them back at the end of the day.
My mom was patient with us during the occasional tiff, reminding us that one day we would be best friends. And I’m not sure that we completely believed her or understood what she meant. But here we are, years later, and our being sisters has blossomed into a friendship that over-shadows all others.
She’s the one I call almost every day, needing to tell her about the latest exciting, or frustrating, thing. She’s my fashion guru, when I’m not quite sure how to make an outfit work. She’s my shopping, adventure, cooking, and exercise buddy.
She’s my confidant.
And although the seemingly all-knowing ‘they’ say that you can’t go home again, the love between my family members is the one constant that doesn’t change; and where they are, home will always be. Maybe my old bedroom, once painted pink and lined with lacy curtains, has become a cozy office. Maybe I left home for college and then officially moved out due to marriage. Maybe I can’t walk down the hall anymore to knock on my sister’s bedroom door.
But when it’s time to celebrate a special birthday like my sister’s, we all find our way back home.
There was Mom, bustling around the kitchen and commanding the last family member to smile, because she hadn’t snapped a picture of them yet. Dad was handing out plates, urging us to stop taking pictures already so that we could eat. My brother Matthew was driving the long-distance trek to my parent’s house and stuck in traffic. And Nate was already filling up his plate. Told to pose with me, he promptly decided to side with my dad.
Hmmm, dropping cheese on Nicole’s head should slow the picture-taking process down.
Yes, he really did drop cheese on my head…
Then after dinner, as with every birthday, we all poured into the living room for the gift-opening portion.
My bro Matty had arrived by this point…
… which meant we were all together again. 🙂
Family… it’s what matters.
Love… it’s what makes you rich.
Sisters…they’re what best friends are made of.
Happy Birthday, Sarah! Maybe this be the BEST year yet!!! 🙂