25 Years Ago

1 May

The night you were born, out father carried me to the neighbor’s house (our Older Sister walked) where she had a sofa bed set up for us. She was waiting for you just as desperately as we were.

The first time I met you, it was obvious that you took after our father. You, poor sweet baby, had his prodigous eyebrows. On the ride home from the hospital, you insisted that he hold you. Our mother drove you all home and the neighbors thought he was an asshole for at least a year after that. They didn’t know that you were already a force with which to be reckoned.

I felt like you were mine and I offered to get up in the middle of the night with you, but our mother explained why that wouldn’t really work. (I couldn’t breastfeed, for example, and the crib was twice as tall as I was. Whatever.) When you got chicken pox, I yelled at her because she had taken you out in public and gotten you sick.

You have been wild since the day you were born and I have loved you and worried about you in equal measure. The person you are today – as a wife, a sister, and a person – brings me unmatched joy.  I am proud that we have the same blood.

P.S. we are recreating this picture when I visit you in August.

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