I’m getting to this weird age (or maybe already am there). The age where you realize all the kids you babysat for are in high school. all your friend’s little siblings are real people who you can interact with on the same level as a friend. The age where you realize that by proxy, you’re getting old.
My baby sister turns 20 today. And here it hits – I have a baby sister who is 20 years old. My baby sister whose 1st birthday I can remember, who cried a lot, and I yelled at to stay out of my room. My sister who I can vividly remember learning to walk, talk (though we regretted that one), who called my other sister ‘kullie-kul’, and hugged us with the big toothless smile she used to bear. The little sister who we finally convinced to get her unibrow waxed, and the same one who gauged her leg out in her first shaving accident, because I told her that her legs were too hairy when we slept in the same bed on vacations.
my little sister is a different breed. being 7 years older than someone, especially in childhood, creates a weird sort of relationship. I was old enough, when she was born, to see her as a babysitting task. I was old enough to hold her right away, and look over her. I’m sure that’s where my instinct to protect her, came from. My middle sister was a lover – she was always squeezing animals too hard when she hugged them, and smiling at everyone, and everything. when my little sister arrived, I took it upon myself to protect her from everything – ‘kelly, you’re squeezing darcy too hard. STOP’. (I was bossy too – I’m a wicked combination of bads). then, as she grew up, and became a little bit of a nut head, I had two sisters who were crazy, outgoing, and fun. I moved from the obvious form of protection, to the form that I thought was right – controlling them. if I could make sure they were not an annoyance to people, I would make sure they were well liked, and no one would ever hurt them. I think – I know – that the hard thing at that age (when my sisters were 4 and 8) was that they couldn’t possibly understand that. they saw me as the bossy, uptight, older sister. we recently watched home videos from past Christmases, and I could see it in myself.
and I know. I know these are all things that we all have to learn on our own. if we don’t experience them ourselves, we don’t learn. but what they don’t know is, that as an older sister, I hurt when they hurt. and all the times I’ve told them not to do something, rolled my eyes at their experiences and mistakes, told them what to do, who to see, who not to date, I was actually telling them, ‘I’ve been there. I’ve done that. And I did it wrong. I don’t want you to get hurt, so please don’t do it the way I did.”
quite the lengthy way of telling my little sisters that I’m proud of them, and the women they’ve become. And a happy birthday to my little baby sister – she’s 20. my sisters are grown ups. they’re making real lives out of the paths they’ve chosen, and they’ve done it with the tools my parents taught them to build on their own. I can’t wait to see them get older, more established, and share their lives with people too.
I am a lucky woman.
My baby sister turns 20 today. And here it hits – I have a baby sister who is 20 years old. My baby sister whose 1st birthday I can remember, who cried a lot, and I yelled at to stay out of my room. My sister who I can vividly remember learning to walk, talk (though we regretted that one), who called my other sister ‘kullie-kul’, and hugged us with the big toothless smile she used to bear. The little sister who we finally convinced to get her unibrow waxed, and the same one who gauged her leg out in her first shaving accident, because I told her that her legs were too hairy when we slept in the same bed on vacations.
That sister is 20. 20 years old. And I am the oldest sister.
I’ve always been a far too overprotective older sister – I mocked both of my sisters about boys, didn’t want to hear about their escapades, provided (most likely unwanted) advice on more than one occasion. I like to think I provided guidance, and gave them an ear to listen, and a shoulder to cry on. I pested them, bossed them, punched them, ignored them, and made them cry. I listened to their concerns, and tried to provide support, when I didn’t agree with what they were doing. I’ve tried to call them out when I thought they were being lazy in hockey, and encouraged them to join more teams, more clubs, and get better jobs. I’ve gone to hockey tournaments, gone on hockey trips and despite my high school hatred for hockey, went to more hockey games than I care to divulge. I’ve hated boyfriends, and friends, and loved boyfriends and friends. I think I’ve done my job, as outlined in the ‘oldest of 3 girls’ handbook.
kelly and i at age 7, and 4; kelly, darcy and i in cooperstown
(yes. we took sports related vacations. frequently)
my middle sister and I have been through our ups and downs – being 2.5 years older than someone causes a strain in some sister relationships. ours, was strained. she was always bigger and much stronger than me, and while I relied on my sharp (and always nasty, and below the belt) tongue to protect myself, she relied on her athletic prowess – and the simple fact that at almost 3 years younger, she would always be able to kick my ass. I frequently had things thrown at me, was pushed down stairs, and had to escape (thank goodness I’m fairly quick) to my room and lean against the door for protection… while spouting insults that she never had retaliation for. then, as we went to high school, and she was going to the same place as me every year, we became more mature in our fighting. I (the older sister) would often ignore her in the halls, and she got back at me by excelling in sports, far beyond what I would have ever hoped for (that one pissed me RIGHT off). I resented her for the relationship she had with my parents, and I took it out on her. And then, when I left home, things changed. I don’t know how we did it, but we emerged… I went to school, and officially moved out. she became the only sibling in high school, and that was much easier, I’m sure. We actually talked on the phone, and sent emails. she visited me with her friends in university, and I took her to her first bar, while underage. when I came home, we enjoyed spending time together. Slowly, we rebuilt what had been lost throughout all of those years. it’s been a tough road – we communicate differently… her, well, and me, not at all. we’ve been through tough spots with boyfriends that I (or she) didn’t accept, and I’m sure my innate need to protect her became exhausting – and sometimes, in the especially rough situations, tough to handle. We’ve had a few crying phone calls, ending in ‘I’m sorry,’; ‘no, I’m sorry.’ But if we didn’t have those, we wouldn’t be sisters. i wouldn't change how things were for anything. we have a bond that is inexplicable. we think the same thoughts, and laugh at the same things. we eat like pigs, and just 'get' eachother. any i don't think we would have that, if we hadn't wanted to kill one another when we were little. we have something that i couldn't rebuild with anyone.
new years with the fam; kelly showing her animal instincts on Christmas eve; kelly, me, and our cousin's son and daughter on mom's side's fake Christmas
she’s an amazing human being – her and I are so different, and I admire her daily for her decision making, and her emotional capacity. she is best friends with everyone she meets, and will take a risk without letting the potential implications of the decisions she makes, deter her. I frequently think, when making large life decisions, ‘how would kelly see this, and what would she do?’. and it helps. it helps me think outside my own perspective, and work to be a different (and I think better) version of myself. She’s hilarious, and outgoing. she’s crazy and makes everyone around her have fun.
“of two sisters one is always the watcher, one the dancer.” Louise Glück
she can make anything a positive situation (even if you don’t want it to be), and manages to make everyone around her feel like they are the most important person in the world. she’s stunningly beautiful, and knows the fine line between classy and still being young and fun. I wish I could be more like her, and i love her to death. she's my best friend.my little sister is a different breed. being 7 years older than someone, especially in childhood, creates a weird sort of relationship. I was old enough, when she was born, to see her as a babysitting task. I was old enough to hold her right away, and look over her. I’m sure that’s where my instinct to protect her, came from. My middle sister was a lover – she was always squeezing animals too hard when she hugged them, and smiling at everyone, and everything. when my little sister arrived, I took it upon myself to protect her from everything – ‘kelly, you’re squeezing darcy too hard. STOP’. (I was bossy too – I’m a wicked combination of bads). then, as she grew up, and became a little bit of a nut head, I had two sisters who were crazy, outgoing, and fun. I moved from the obvious form of protection, to the form that I thought was right – controlling them. if I could make sure they were not an annoyance to people, I would make sure they were well liked, and no one would ever hurt them. I think – I know – that the hard thing at that age (when my sisters were 4 and 8) was that they couldn’t possibly understand that. they saw me as the bossy, uptight, older sister. we recently watched home videos from past Christmases, and I could see it in myself.
“'But what if the monsters come?' 'Fancy.' Kit looked away from the drama to stare at her sister, surprised. 'We are the monsters.'” Dia Reeves, Slice of Cherry
as my little sister grew up, she skipped a grade, and had toxic friendships. because of my personality type, I wanted so badly to help her, stand up for her, and make sure she would never ever feel that way – unfortunately, I’m not a talker, or a consoler…. so instead, I chastised her, and told her not to hang out with those friends. I drove her places and shot evil looks, and rude comments to her friends, who I knew were bad for her. I’m sure she never felt comfortable enough to tell me about issues relating to boys, teachers, or anything of the sort. luckily, when I went to university, Darcy was still in middle school… so when we got close, I still had time to help her through friend issues, and educational things, for when she began high school. I comforted her when she was upset about academics, and had fantastic conversations with her about friends, and boys. those are all the things I missed with Kelly, and it made me realize what a great relationship could look like when a younger sister was in high school.
party like a cowgirl - stag and doe at our aunt's farm; bachelorette for my friend; harry potter premiere
since then, she’s graduated high school, and moved onto university – in a different province. she’s managed a great job, and followed a path similar to my own in school – we often conclude that we’re the same person. she’s just the much better version of me. she’s hilarious, stylish to the umpteenth degree; she’s brilliantly intelligent, and has got a quick tongue like me. she’s beautiful – stunning, in fact – and she makes being a nerd look good (a gift I never grasped in its entirety). she is a great friend to people, and one of the most fantastic daughter’s I’ve ever met. I wish I could be more like her, and i love her to death. that’s the cool thing about being an older sister – as much as your younger sisters think you are a pest, or bossy, or a know it all, or a nuisance, you love them. you love them more than life itself, and would do anything to prevent them from the hurt you’ve felt. I hate hearing specific things about my sister's lives... and for a very long time, they avoided telling me anything because they didn't want to hear my rebuttle – but the reality is, that if I could protect my sisters from the hurt I’ve felt, I would lock them in a room forever.
"sweet, crazy conversations full of half sentences, daydreams and misunderstandings more thrilling than understanding could ever be.” toni morrison
If I could protect them from getting a bad grade, or making a wrong decision when it comes to school, I would pay all the money in the world for a career counselor. if I could protect them from car accidents, slips and falls, injuries or accidents, I would wrap them in bubble tape, and take away their licenses. I would do anything to protect them - I never ever want them to feel the things I’ve felt. hurt the way I’ve hurt. been sick the way I’ve been sick. fought the way I’ve fought.
"the anguish I always feel when she's in pain wells up in my chest and threatens to register on my face" suzanne collins, the hunger games
quite the lengthy way of telling my little sisters that I’m proud of them, and the women they’ve become. And a happy birthday to my little baby sister – she’s 20. my sisters are grown ups. they’re making real lives out of the paths they’ve chosen, and they’ve done it with the tools my parents taught them to build on their own. I can’t wait to see them get older, more established, and share their lives with people too.
"For when three sisters love each other with such sincere affection, the one does not experience sorrow, pain, or affliction of any kind, but the other's heart wishes to relieve, and vibrates in tenderness... like a well-organized musical instrument." - Elizabeth Shaw
// if you're a sister, and want to cry about some quotes.... check these out. my faves.