A sister was born. {a flashback}

Thirty years ago today, my sister was born. I was three and some change and when she finally emerged from my mother’s belly, I soon realized that she was the one I had been waiting for.  On the day she came home from the hospital, I made her a birthday crown with heart stickers and when I held her and looked at her little face, my hands all the sudden seemed huge in comparison. Over time she learned to crawl and then walk and then run. We built forts out of chairs and took naps together on the living room floor; in the summer we laid out back in the grass and played hop scotch on the front sidewalk. We shared a bedroom with mauve-colored walls and a popcorn ceiling and we slept in white bunk beds and talked after the lights turned off. Our memories are intertwined and our lives are built on moments with one another. On the day that my sister was born, my life was forever changed and I was, in a sense, reborn as well. Happy birthday sister–you are my heart.

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Category : flashbacks, personal