An older sister is a friend and defender -
a listener, conspirator, a counsellor and a sharer of delights.
And sorrows too.
|Me and my "big" sisters|
That, however, is nonsense. Half, full...didn't matter then, doesn't matter now.
When I was born, Michelle was nine years old; Rhonda, seven. They doted on me like no other; I know, I've seen the pictures and heard the stories.
Michelle would sneak into my room when I was a baby, waking me up in the morning and pretending that she was my mom. She taught me how to read when I was only four years old. She got married when I was nine and moved out on her own, providing me with a safe haven during my teenage years. I was there for her when her babies were born; she was there for me years later when I had babies of my own. We have discovered the joys of scrapbooking and photography and blogging together. We have taken road trips and talked about the books we love, laughed over the silliest things and just enjoyed being sisters. I have so many memories of our relationship, they wouldn't even fit on this blog. Knowing that Michelle is there for me, no matter what, is a priceless gift that I am forever grateful for.
Rhonda is the only daughter of our dad's first marriage. We have never lived in the same house, but I remember clearly the weekends when Dad would pull up in the driveway with Rhonda in tow, and I would run outside, shrieking, "SISSY!" and throw myself into her arms. I loved wearing her hand-me-downs (I always thought she was the most stylish teenager ever) and I especially loved when she would fix my hair and take me out "on the town" (usually dinner at a Mexican restaurant) when she got her license. Now that Rhonda is married and has babies, too, we do our best to get our families together for cookouts, card-playing, and fun cousin time. I treasure our annual sisters-only Kings Island days, and our movie dates, and our hiking trips. We joke that our almost-psychic ability to read each other's minds will someday lead to us sitting side-by-side in the old folks' home, not needing to talk, just nodding and smiling and knowing exactly what we both mean :)
Never have I not liked being the "baby of the family". My sisters made sure that I always felt loved and treasured, and I am so grateful for that part of my life. I'm so glad that we live less than an hour away; that we have interests in common and still love getting together as often as we can. They have helped shape me into the person I am today, and I love them for it.
Want to read more stories about being grateful? Head over to "Learn with Jenny" and have a peek...maybe even write a grateful post of your own...