I love that my sister…
… has always been a constant in my life. When I was very shy and afraid as a child, my sister would take me by the hand and let me know that I wasn’t alone and that everything was going to be ok.
… is funny. No, not funny, hilarious. The things that she’ll do to make me laugh, I can’t even begin to describe here. We have so many inside jokes by now, that sometimes even two words of an unfinished sentence make me burst out into belly-aching, tear-flowing laughter.
… has this ability to always make me feel better, no matter if something big or small is bothering me.
… is so genuine. She’s not one to tolerate any BS and she definitely knows how to be real with people.
… gets me. Like, really gets me.
… always calls at the right time. I don’t know if I should blame it on her being psychic, the synchronicity of twin brains or just pure coincidence, but I swear, sometimes the phone rings when I am literally holding the phone in my hand about to dial her number.
… is a wonderful mother. I never had a doubt that she would be a wonderful mother, but now actually seeing her around my niece and my nephew is one of the most amazing things I have ever witnessed. It’s like my sister truly was born to be a mother. She so patient and easy-going, never stressed or freaked out and handles everything with so much intuition and grace.
… is deeply rooted in our hometown. It’s funny, because I explained here on this blog before, how our roles have somehow reversed over time. I’d have never ever in a million years imagined myself living in California, 6000 miles away from home when I was younger. She, however, was always the courageous one, taking risks and going on adventures. It’s kind of nice to know that going home does not only mean going home to my parents and the house I grew up in, but also going home to the place where my sister has built her life, her nest and family.
It’s almost our birthday! One more sleep. Hooray!