Soul Sister

One day when I was about 12, my mother told me she was going to have another baby. I was angry, how could she do such a thing without my permission? I don't know if that is the usual reaction of a 12 year old, or if it was just me. I was an angry confused young lady who had had a pretty rough start in my life thus far.

I already had 2 little brothers; the eldest was a crazy haired, scrawny, introspective and opinionated 8 year old. He was not particularly outspoken, but had a firm sense of what he thought right and wrong and we fought all the time.  He is the same way today (without the fighting) and everyone loves him dearly for his thoughtfulness and levelheadedness.

The youngest was around 2 or 3 years old, cherub faced with jet black hair, rosy cheeks, and piercing blue eyes. He had a never ending curiosity and propensity for finding trouble.  And you guessed it; he is the same way today. He is extremely intelligent and can figure out just about whatever mechanical/electrical problem you put in front of him and something about him makes you want to hug him.

So at 12 years old, I thought our family had had about enough of babies and found no reason another should be added.  I fumed about this until my mom began to show, it was then I realized there was a tiny being in there that was just waiting to come and meet the world. As I grew accustomed to the idea I began to get excited, I helped to go through the hand me down baby cloths, (there were a lot, there was no prenatal doctor visits and certainly no knowledge of the sex of the baby) and began to imagine what my new baby brother or sister may be like.

As the day grew near I stayed close, having been promised to be able to see the birth, the anticipation was unbearable! But the temptation of friends and sleepovers eventually won out and it was on just such an evening my baby sister was born.

I was awoken from a dead sleep at my friends house, and told to get up quick and come home, my mother was having the baby. You can bet I shot out of bed and rushed home as fast as I could…only to find the baby girl had already arrived. But the thrill of meeting her the first time alleviated any disappointment I may have had.

There she was, all pink and squished with a shock of thick black hair on the top of her head and soft black fuzz on her back and shoulders just like a little monkey, and I loved her.

From that very moment we have been almost inseparable, I changed her diapers, fed her, and sang her to sleep. (She even slept in my room as a toddler, with her fat little feet planted squarely in my face).

Over our lifetimes we have forged a strong and loving relationship, she calls me Sister Mama, and for my part she is the daughter I never had. We can finish each other’s sentences, get each other’s often crass, very dry and witty humor, and we would do absolutely anything to keep the other from being hurt.

For many years I did my best to protect her from whatever I could, took her under my wing, and made sure she had the things she needed even after I had left home and got married. Consciously or unconsciously I took her on as my charge.

And what I got in return is priceless. Today she is a bright, compassionate, thoughtful young lady who has a heart of gold and her head on her shoulders right where it belongs. Every moment I spent playing patty cake, or tea party, shopping for her first bra, talking about boys, being the holder of secrets and dryer of tears, has paid off tenfold.

Today, she is the holder of my secrets, the dryer of my tears, laughs at my jokes and listens to my rants. She has the wisest most thoughtful advice you will ever hear, and not one judgmental bone in her body. In my darkest moments it is her voice that soothes me.

Everybody who knows her loves her for her easy laugh, sense of humor, and generous spirit.  (And her dance moves are unmatched).If she doesn't know it already I would like her to know that she is indeed my hero, and probably a hero to many others and more to come.  I could not be prouder of her, or love her more,  if I tried.