For me, the word sister means "Your first true BFF and the ultimate confidante"... The older I become, the more meaningful and special the word becomes as I now have an almost 29 year relationship with my God-Given and thus ultimate BFF.
My BFF doesn't even live in the same country as I. But she has a solid relationship with not only myself, but my spouse (he adores her)... and now my two daughters. Furthermore her significant other is such a shining light into our lives. We totally see him as an extension of her... And he, like her are just lovely in so many complex and even at times, simple ways.
It is totally conceited to say that I have the best sister in the whole world, but I am going ahead to say it anyways. From the time we were little, she was with me, sometimes super glued to my side in what I could only have then called an unwanted closeness. I was the glorified older sister, and she was the baby. I think I spent a lot of time tormenting her, annoying her, and my favourite past time, making her cry. I wholeheartedly admit that I was a cruel and conniving elder sibling who could not tolerate sharing my mommmmeeeeee with anyone.
I was like the coyote constantly setting up the traps for the road runner. I framed her at every opportunity for my evil doings, one thing that gave me great satisfaction (at like the age of 7 or 8, I base this off of the house we lived in then) was the moment she got into trouble and I got to be the "good child who is just being delightful"... (I do believe I did have horns under my hair)...
Regardless of how antagonizing I was as an elder sister, my sister grew into a decent little person. She was funny and kind, and she was the best company although I was loathe to admit it. She was very different from I. At Easter I would eat all my chocolate bunnies in a day... then want more .... where as she could save hers for months on end... And often take pity on me and share hers with me. Same would go for pocket money. As kids she saved every penny she got. I spent all of mine in a heartbeat.
I rode my BMX with training wheels until I was far beyond the acceptable age.... Where as she could fly around on the sharp bricked drive way on her little bike, legs churning and whirring when she was only bite sized herself... I couldn't climb a tree to save my life...where as my sister was always up one, often times wearing her patent leather ballet pumps... just monkeying around.
When we went to school I suddenly realized she was smaller than I. When she got picked on, I was surprised at how quickly I reacted. I strangled the school secretaries little brother, David, with his tie for picking on her....
Things that came easily for me, were harder for her. Like reading and writing. She had to struggle through it and work a lot harder for the things that I simply understood without even trying. Yet she was far more social than I and far more lovely. So I was always watching, observing, comparing, weighing up what was more fair, what was more work. And I do believe she had a lot more work to go through, but I believe it had a total end in sight which has blessed her to this day. She is a conscientious, methodical and thorough worker... Where as I am slap dash, harried and sloppy.
As a teen she was always bailing me out. She was 2 1/2 years younger than I, but she was the more mature one. When we interviewed for waitressing jobs, the managers would always assume she was the elder sister. She always looked professional, put together, capable, dependable and rock solid. And all of those qualities are true. She knew most of my secrets (I don't even think I knew the truth in everything 100% of the times)... and she was my often times reluctant friend. She didn't dabble in nonsense or shenanigans. She was fun, daring, entertaining, but she was sensible. She had limits and restrictions of what she would or wouldn't do. I don't know where she got her sensibilities from... I can only assume it is from my mom.
My mother raised us that even though at times we could be each others opponents... that we were not to let unforgiveness or mistrust rule our hearts. She would force us to hug and to apologize. And whilst through out our lives together (especially in our teens) I would be the one normally grovelling and begging for forgiveness... my sisters Elvis lip would often curl up in a smile and she would cave. Shes just like that. Shes a far bigger person than I...
I still can't believe that we almost lost her. I still can't believe she almost failed to continue to exist. With that thought juxtaposed against all the pleasant and glorious and fond memories, and the planning for our memories for this year (her visit to Tanzania.... and then later on this summer to the beach with us on the Georgia Coast)... as well as with all of her (their) plans for the future... and all the sensibilities and thoughtfulness that goes into her every single moment and every single movement... I can only be brought to a place of humbleness and gratitude for the blessing and radiant joy at having her for my sister.
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