Sisters, big and little

I am a big sister.  I have been a big sister since I was four years old, and I will be a big sister for the rest of my life.  I remember when my baby sister was brought home from the hospital and I sat on the sofa in our living room while she was gently placed in my arms.  I was cautious, careful, and gentle with this little creature, treating this bundle of a baby like she was made out of porcelain.

Being a big sister was not always easy or fun.  I'm sure the same can be said of being a little sister.  During sleepovers with my friends there was always a little voice, a little girl, who wanted to play outside with us, play checkers with us, and watch movies with us.  At times I thought of her presence as annoying, but when it was just the two of us, just me and my little sister, I was always so grateful for a constant companion to ride bikes, to go swimming, or to play catch in the backyard.

Being a big sister made me a natural protector.  I wanted so badly to protect my younger sister from thoughtless taunts and mean words, from failure and from tears.  And yet, there were times as a big sister when I thoughtlessly caused pain during the adolescent fights that all siblings go through.  

Being a big sister meant I observed and watched.  I watched as the little baby who I once held so carefully in my arms grew up.  I observed as she excelled at everything from softball, to piano, to showing animals at the county fair.  I watched her transform from a quiet little girl into a strikingly mature young woman.  The years of our young lives passed with by with countless laughs and a million hugs, recorded forever in photographs and remembered always by the two of us.  

When my sister and I finally lived in the same town again, I never knew our relationship would continue to grow, both as friends and as work colleagues.  I didn't realize how much I would grow to depend on her, to value her input and seek her advice.  Having her so close these past few years, it was easy to imagine that nothing had to change. 

When my sister decided to move away, to seek her professional destiny on the other side of the state, we started to make plans for new adventures.  Yet even through all the job applications, resume drafts and interviews, I never completely believed she was really going to leave.  Even as the months on the calendar fell away, even as the weeks began to dwindle, even as the days became fewer and fewer, I thought maybe, just maybe, nothing really has to change.

When I became a big sister, I never knew I would treasure it so much.  When I saw my sister's face for the first time, I never knew she would one day become the best friend I have ever had.  As we grew up together in a house nestled between golden wheat fields, I never knew that one day I would look up to her, would admire her for so many qualities I feel are lacking in myself. 

As I watch my little sister prepare to start a new chapter, to open a door to new adventures, I feel a pang of sadness and wonder if we will ever be this close again, both geographically and emotionally.  I wonder also what the future holds....both for her and for myself.

Being a big sister is not always easy, and it's not always fun.  Sometimes there are fights, annoyances, and sibling unrest.  But sometimes there are late night talks and memorable road trips, inside jokes, and a confidant who will always keep your secrets.  Being a big sister means having a partner in crime, someone who will finish your sentences and who will always watch Lifetime movies with you.  Being a big sister means there will always be another person who knows how your heart is hurting when you both lose someone you love.   

Being a big sister has meant a lot of things to me over the years.  And now, as my little sister fills her moving boxes and makes plans for a new life in a new city, it means I have to see beyond my own sadness, my own insecurities, and offer her nothing but well wishes and unwavering support.

Sometimes, being a big sister means you have no choice but to say goodbye.