It’s hard to find time to see my sister. She made it downtown for my birthday last month and we decorated my Christmas tree and ate pie and rocked some classic N SYNC Christmas tunes. It was nice. But I typically only see her once every few months, and that’s a bit sad.
We’re both baristas, and not only that, we’re both managers, so we always have someone to turn to when we need to gripe about work, but I miss those days when we shared an apartment and she was always there. I miss card games and board games and conversation with someone who sees my side but doesn’t always agree with me. We’ve been through our fair share of rough patches and what was a typical childish sibling relationship has blossomed into a true adult friendship — something I wouldn’t trade for the world.
I went to visit her last weekend. I knew full well that she had opening shifts all those days, so I spent a large part of my time just hanging out on her couch watching Criminal Minds reruns. The time we did spend together was nice, and she kicked my ass (and her boyfriend’s ass) at Monopoly. We watched the live-action 101 Dalmations while drinking whiskey and eating Wagon Wheels — it was so much fun. And on those days when no one was home, I would sit in the living room and look around at the life she’s built for herself and be filled with pride. I’m proud of my sister. I’m proud of the challenges she faced early in life and her reaction to them. She’s not one to take things lying down. She’s one of the best people I know, kind and giving and instantly warm to strangers. She’s bad ass at her job (I’ve seen her working and I’m not even HALF as friendly as she is), not afraid to take risks and aim higher every single day.
The point of this post is, I love my little sister. When I grow up, I want to be just like her.