Saturday, November 13, 2010

My littlest sister.

In the old days, before husband and babies of my own, there was baby sister.

Over a year ago I wrote of the mystery that was this grown girl I'd not had the chance to know well.

I'm delighted to say that after living close and striving diligently to understand and love the young lady she has become, I count her among my dear friends.

Of course we have years and years to grow closer as sisters. For now she is like a cousin to my boys; a daughter/sister mix of sorts. But I know her now.

I will be there when she overcomes her slight stage-fright and sings her first solo.

I will hear her borderline-ridiculous laugh about a bazzillion times in the next few years and love it more and more (if it's possible to love it more than I already do).

I am excited giggle with her when she sasses and shuts down the boy who tries to give her a kiss for the first time.

On the way to our "just for fun" photo shoot I looked over to her and saw that little baby I'd known before heading off to college so many years ago. And the time we were apart seemed like a blink in the past. We could have always been together.

Yes. I love my littlest sister.


jdavissquared said...

this is so sweet. I too have sisters much younger than I, and it's so hard to feel connected. You've inspired me to do my best to know them well!

amateur idler said...