My first memory of her is watching my mom bathe her in the kitchen sink of our outdated farmhouse. Tiny with a head full of dark hair, she was the complete opposite of me. After all, I was a mature 5 1/2 (ALMOST 6) year old with princess-golden hair (hey...it's my story, so let me embellish a little!). I was fascinated by her little movements and sounds. And I was happy to have my very own LIVE doll baby!
Years went by. It wasn't much fun to have a toddler always dragging out my toys and putting them in places I couldn't find them. It really wasn't fun when I was stuck at Brownies one night until a family friend finally came to pick me up because my parents had the entire neighborhood searching for her. She decided to play hide-and-seek with my mom. Tucked under the hanging clothes in our closet, she heard my mom frantically calling her name & became too afraid to come out. My parents were too concerned with finding her that they didn't even think about me sitting on the steps at the Brownie shack, feeling very alone and very forgotten. Suddenly, I was NOT fascinated by her anymore!
Then came her "artsy" period. She bleached her jeans, dyed her hair & CUT MY CLOTHES. I could only stay out past curfew if I was picking her up from the skating rink (which I still, to this day, don't understand). She resisted my attempts to mother her (I wonder why?!). She did NOT want to be like me in any way, shape or form. I was the "golden child". She was the "black sheep". I studied. She socialized. I worked. She played. I obeyed (mostly). She rebelled with everything in her. We were polar opposites.
Flash forward through the squabbles, hurt feelings and words that should've never been spoken. I went to college and returned home to work. We both married. She had a son so much like her that every time I saw him, I was overwhelmed by memories of our childhood (just the good ones). Then she had a daughter. Six months later, I gave birth to CJ. And there she was, at the hospital, holding my baby and grinning from ear to ear. I knew our relationship would be forever changed.
Throughout the past eight years, my sister & I have been through a lot together. We've shared parenting war stories. She's given advice & I've listened. I suddenly realized that younger doesn't mean not wiser, and older doesn't mean I know it all. We've fought battles together, spent hours on the phone, and even joked about moving our families to Alaska together. We love and respect each other's husbands. Of course, we're crazy about the kids. And I would lay down my life for her.
The difference in our ages often means we don't share the same childhood memories, so our friendship is largely based on the women we've become as adults. Still, she's the only other person raised full-time in my home. We share DNA and a history no one else will ever understand. It took a long time to realize that. You see, God made us sisters. Then, when we were ready, He made us friends.
Years went by. It wasn't much fun to have a toddler always dragging out my toys and putting them in places I couldn't find them. It really wasn't fun when I was stuck at Brownies one night until a family friend finally came to pick me up because my parents had the entire neighborhood searching for her. She decided to play hide-and-seek with my mom. Tucked under the hanging clothes in our closet, she heard my mom frantically calling her name & became too afraid to come out. My parents were too concerned with finding her that they didn't even think about me sitting on the steps at the Brownie shack, feeling very alone and very forgotten. Suddenly, I was NOT fascinated by her anymore!
Then came her "artsy" period. She bleached her jeans, dyed her hair & CUT MY CLOTHES. I could only stay out past curfew if I was picking her up from the skating rink (which I still, to this day, don't understand). She resisted my attempts to mother her (I wonder why?!). She did NOT want to be like me in any way, shape or form. I was the "golden child". She was the "black sheep". I studied. She socialized. I worked. She played. I obeyed (mostly). She rebelled with everything in her. We were polar opposites.
Flash forward through the squabbles, hurt feelings and words that should've never been spoken. I went to college and returned home to work. We both married. She had a son so much like her that every time I saw him, I was overwhelmed by memories of our childhood (just the good ones). Then she had a daughter. Six months later, I gave birth to CJ. And there she was, at the hospital, holding my baby and grinning from ear to ear. I knew our relationship would be forever changed.
"Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another,
"What! You too? I thought I was the only one!"
~ C.S. Lewis ~
"What! You too? I thought I was the only one!"
~ C.S. Lewis ~
Throughout the past eight years, my sister & I have been through a lot together. We've shared parenting war stories. She's given advice & I've listened. I suddenly realized that younger doesn't mean not wiser, and older doesn't mean I know it all. We've fought battles together, spent hours on the phone, and even joked about moving our families to Alaska together. We love and respect each other's husbands. Of course, we're crazy about the kids. And I would lay down my life for her.
The difference in our ages often means we don't share the same childhood memories, so our friendship is largely based on the women we've become as adults. Still, she's the only other person raised full-time in my home. We share DNA and a history no one else will ever understand. It took a long time to realize that. You see, God made us sisters. Then, when we were ready, He made us friends.
(Click on the icon to find other stories inspired by this quote)
Sorry if you're now humming that Sister Sledge song! I know I'll have it in my head all day!
8 comments:
too funny and so very true!
I do not have a sister, but I do have two little girls that are only sixteen months apart. I hope and pray every day they will find not only sisterhood, but true friendship in one another.
I love reading your blog, Melissa. I always have. And you've written some really good stuff. This? This may be my favorite thing you've ever written because you could have changed the names in this post to Barb and Bev and been dead on accurate. This is exactly the way it is with me and my sister. I love the last line. First we were sisters, then friends. Wonderful, wonderful post.
I love what you shared here about friendship and sisters - I have one sister who I treasure. I'm honestly glad the rest were boys so she and I can just be the two of us. My daughters have each other - theres just something special between sisters, esp when you move from that to friends, which I suppose most often happens when you grow up and quit trying to steal each others boyfriends, or clothes or makeup or tattling on each other. That does make it easier.
Okay I feel like a dork because when I left my comment I swear I didnt see my sister's comment right above it. It's obviously true - we really are crazy about each other. But we used to make each other just plain crazy. 5 years apart can be a lot when youre 5 and 10 or 10 and 15. Later it doesnt matter at all.
Wonderful story here. It brings back a lot of memories of my sister. We also became friends really for the first time once we both had children.
Also--my daughter is 5 years older than my son, and she does look out for him right now (he's only 2). I pray that they will have a special bond, and I'm encouraged reading all of this.
My husband's sister is 10 years younger than he is and I've known her since she was 10. She is truly like a sister to me, and we are quite close, despite our age difference.
Wonderful posting on this weeks quote. For some reason it made me cry and miss my sister!
I started at the top and read to the bottom and ended up here. Your blog is charming and I have enjoyed my visit here!
I am just reading through the CWO blogroll meeting other bloggers! I hope you and yours have a great weekend!
Post a Comment