A Sister’s Declaration
If my heart could speak, what would it say? As a friend it would say I appreciate you. As a sister it would say I admire you, I look up to you, where would I be with out you, I care about you, I got your back, and I love you. My heart can’t speak, but my fingertips give light to the words my heart wishes it could say.
She helped raise me when times were tough. When mother toiled away in a sea of books to give us a better life and our father was lost in a bottle. My sister kept it hidden from me. We shared a brown papered childhood. Six years between us, she became a caregiver and a leader too young. Was she ever given a childhood? She made sure I had one. The years moved on and we grew apart. No more days of playing with Barbie and Ken. High school came and so did new friends.
I was alone, when for years I’d been a pair. I’d sneak into her room just to feel close to her, wear her clothes to be more like her. She’s always been so cool. She had so many friends, they loved her. She always worked so hard to be the best, to look her best. So tall and thin with light brown hair and a pretty face, she made being the best look easy. Even today she makes it all seem easy.
My sister moved away…more alone then before she left. I wronged my sister. I broke what we once might have had. Now that I’ve grown up and have faced the world with her in the shadows. I think of how much better my life would have been if I had done things differently. How my sister could have been my friend.
My sister the mother, the best mother I know. She does it all and barely breaks a sweat. She works, cooks, cleans, volunteers and still makes time for everyone, even me. I’ve always admired my big sister, today more than ever. As a woman now I’m all grown up and I think of all she has done and wonder if I will ever be able to fill her shoes? I doubt they’ll fit, she wears a six and I wear an eight. We’re different in so many ways.
My sister has always been an emblem of all the things I wish could have or be. In truth there is so much about her I don’t know. Her favorite color, song, or ice cream, so many things elude me. Do we love and hate the same things?
Of all the things I don’t know about my sister there is one thing I do know. I love my sister. My sister the mirror of strength, and poster child of, “if you work hard enough you can do and have everything you want.” I know if I called my sister she would answer, she would be there, have my back, and stand up for me if anyone tried to jerk me around. At the end of the day we may be different as night and day, but we’re still family, and real family doesn’t stray.
If my heart could speak this is what it would say?
I’m sorry and thank you for always trying to be the better sister even when I wasn’t.