I remember when I was the cool sister. My little sis would always want to sit with my friends and I in the basement of our house on Winston Lane. We would all play Dance Dance Revolution, watch scary movies, or talk about those outside our crew, and even though Sis couldn’t wrap her head around half of our conversations, she was always there.
My parents used her as a chaperone. Anytime I was alone with a boy, there she’d be. Right around the corner. Striking up conversation, or claiming that we were listening to her favorite song; watching her favorite movie. What she never knew, though, is I always wanted her there. In fact, once I asked her, directly, to meet her friend for dinner at the same place I had a “date” – just in case I needed to glance over and make eye contact for a bit of reassurance.
Even though she was five years younger, I spilled my heart and soul to her every night. We sat awake in my full size bed and I told her about my crushes, my heartbreaks, my classes, my blogs (yup, had them back then too – Xanga anyone?). We used to cut pictures from dated Bollywood magazines that our family had brought over from India during their last visit, and make huge collages on that 25 cent poster board you could get around the corner. We made customized shorts (PHS, MYH), had photo-shoots, ate like the world’s biggest famine was about to hit any day, and were inseparable.
And, even though I now have my doubts, at the time I definitely thought I was the cool one.
Now, I know better. She’s the one that can pull of the straw bowler hats, the hot pink tattered jeans, studs, those dresses with the stomach cut outs (I would have to wear a poncho over it to ever feel comfortable in one of those). She’s the one that used Crackle nail polish before anyone else (I never used it once). She has the attitude, the strength, and the wit to whip any situation in her favor. And although I’m still her big sister, and may maintain a strong sense of big-sister-rationality, the ability to think practically, and the skills to help tame the occasional emotional hurricane, sometimes I can’t believe how much I have learned and continue to learn from her.
We’ve had a very blessed life, as a family (knock on wood). But my mom’s one complaint with her life is that she never had a sister. She sees the relationship between my sis & I and can’t believe what she’s missed out on. Luckily as we’ve gotten older, we’ve developed an amazingly close relationship with mom, too, but nothing (seriously, nothing) can beat having a sister.
Love you, sis!