This is my virtual toast to my sister, the day before her wedding.
I remember wanting a sister. I remember holding you as a baby. I remember you throwing up on, well, just about everyone. I remember telling people at school that my baby sister would clean out my toy box for me, meaning, she takes EVERYTHING out of it, and thinking I'd come up with the most hilarious joke ever (forgive me, I was probably six years old). I remember long summer days getting shut out of the house with you until lunch, then being sent right back out until dinner. I remember playing with the neighbor girls, and you tagging right along. I remember you getting upset when those girls and I would beat you in every board and card game we tried (you were by far the youngest "on the hill"). I may have suggested a few times that we let you win, but not often. I remember dragging you down the driveway to the bus stop for school, but not bothering to ask you why you didn't want to go. I remember mostly finding you annoying, but being ready to put anyone else who might pick on you in their place immediately. I remember Saturday morning cartoons, and watching them way past the age I might have liked. I remember playing Legos and Barbies endlessly, and the floods and the elaborate back stories that I would set up for us to play along to (I don't think you ever got to plan our play). I remember Dad letting us play with a few Christmas presents early one year, and that none of us told Mom until you and I were grown (I often wonder if he told her sooner?).
I don't remember much before you were born. Basically, I just remember you always being there, a given but sometimes annoying part of my life. I think I've only recently come to appreciate you as much as I now do. And now I tell my own two kids that they will appreciate each other more one day. I say it is at least because they'll want help taking care of us and paying for the nursing home when we're old. But really, I think you and I have both just finally grown up.
And I only recently have learned to appreciate what you must have gone through as the younger child, by watching it through my younger one's perspective. I married another first-born, then had a first-born of my own as our only child for over five years. But now, I'm guessing I understand better. I find myself watching my son look up to his big sister, want hugs from her when she's unwilling, want to go into her room even if it is to help her make her bed just to be there, and I think, oh, that's what the following was all about. You wanted to be like me, but I didn't want you following after me, and now, I wish I had been more considerate.
Then, when you were just growing up, I was gone. I didn't think of it then, but it must have been hard in ways. And it may have been just when I would have started finding you interesting again. Maybe I could have offered advice that would have made a difference in your life, but I wasn't there to see you growing up.
By the time you were 14, you were taller than I, but you will always be my little sis. And now you are getting married, marrying a good man, the right man. And I know you will be good for each other. I find myself wanting again to offer advice, and you know I will if you want it. But really, it comes down to just a few things...
You are getting married tomorrow before God, don't forget it. Love each other, even when you don't particularly like each other. Don't think marriage is 50/50, because it's not. In a good one, it's 75/25 some days, maybe even 99/1 at times, but then it flips, and you realize it's been 25/75 or 1/99 for a while, too. Just don't give up on each other, not when you've found the right person. The rest is just the details, the living.
I'm proud of you for going back to school, and for marrying a good guy. Just stay on those paths and I'm certain you'll be fine. I love you!
No comments:
Post a Comment