Dear sister

“Sometimes I thought that God gave us sisters just to hold our hands when we felt small.” — Rose Christo

Dear sister:
I befriended you when we were so small we whiled our afternoon-lives away at the daycare.
Do you remember?
When evening fell, we waited together for our mother to bring us home.
Back then, fierce as a lion cub, I had thought:
This is my sister. I must protect her and look after her.
I wear my identity, elder sister, like a Girl Scouts badge, proud as a knight.

I led you behind me, bold as an adventurer exploring uncharted lands, everywhere.
Harry Potter, Eragon, Chronicles of Ancient Darkness,
playgrounds, movie theatres, shopping malls.
You lead me now —
eyes as bright as passion and enthusiasm allow —
identities, social politics, theories,
Percy Jackson, Captive Prince, Foxhole Court.

Have you ever wondered why friends are as close as sisters but sisters are never as close as friends?

Because —
A sister like a friend makes home warm and lit and cozy as a hearth warding off the winter chill.
A sister like a playmate makes home a place to chatter and play and imagine, filling your heart with cheer and noise after a long day of silence.
A sister like a sister makes home a home to return to, familiar and restful and comforting as a hug.

Dear sister:
I am beyond grateful and incredibly happy that we have befriended each other.
How will I describe the ball of warmth in my chest, happy as teddy bears and toy rabbits —
or the way my heart lightens and laughs and becomes young and playful —
or my irrepressible fondness around you, sunny as puppies tumbling and playing?

Dear sister:
This sistership means more to me than words can say.
Thank you for letting me bare my heart,
and thank you for baring yours.

Yours,
your sister.