I have this little sister Stasha. She is cute and quite funny. She got married just a smidge over a year ago (Happy Anniversary guys!). I had the distinct pleasure of officiating at the wedding. What an opportunity! My sister invited me to publicly humiliate her on her wedding day. A greater gift has never been given to me.
A funny thing happened when I sat down to write the ceremony. Sure I made a few jokes. C’mon, it’s me. But I found myself thinking how lucky I am to have my sister both because she is a wonderful person and because we share something nobody else can understand. Other sisters know what I’m talking about. It’s the shared history of coming into to womanhood together, knowing each others secrets, seeing each other at our best and our worst and knowing that no matter what, there is a woman in the world who has your back.
There are just so many great memories. The time I told her we were running away because I was mad at our parents. She just stood in the corner while I packed socks, underwear, the tea set and one stuffed animal each, crying softly and saying, “But I don’t want to run away!” She was so relieved when we got caught.
When we decided to play beauty salon. With safety scissors. The night before school picture day. Yeah, sorry about the bangs.
The time we got our ears pierced and she got scared. I stood beside her and let her permanently ruin my chances of being a professional concert pianist by holding my hand. As we held our collective breath waiting for the piercing to begin, “Stand By Me” came on the radio.
How we used to wrestle, WWF-style, almost everyday after school over silly things like who got the remote the year I was 13 and she was 11. My mother eventually stopped taking our “Mom! She did something trivial that I am completely overblowing and I need you to validate my response!” phone calls.
Driving together to Massachusetts to deliver me to my freshman year in college. My parents took one car and we took the other. There was a lot of crying on that trip.
Suffering through Karaoke Night at Old Port Tavern to help her ring in her 21st birthday. You still owe me for that one.
Sitting in a jacuzzi in my twentieth hour of labor. It was just the two of us, listening to Prairie Home Companion. The nurse had shown Stasha how to use the fetal heart monitor so we could be left alone. I absolutely would not have had the amazing birth experience I did have without that hour alone with her.
Getting to be a part of her wedding day. Most importantly making her cry on her wedding day. I mean she would have done without my help. She’s a crybaby. But I certainly helped.
I could go on. It is enough to say that I have been blessed to share many wonderful experiences with my sister. I am lucky to have her in my life. We may tease each other merciless to the point of cruelty. We may go without talking for two months. We may get unbelievably annoyed with each other over incredibly meaningless things. But when push comes to shove, we will always be there for each other, and that is a pretty fantastic thing.
Happy birthday little sister.