Sisters

Close-age siblings share a special relationship. They have their own little world, sometimes completely losing themselves in work or play. Often not even doing the same things but just being near, a deep comfort in knowing the other one is breathing just a few feet away. For photos they fold into each other, easily connecting, awkwardness never an issue. And laughter is spontaneous and genuine, spurred by just a look or a knowing nudge.

One of my sisters is only two years older than me. We did everything together, sharing a room and a childhood. I cried, screamed, cried some more every single day for months when she went off to kindergarten. I didn't know how to not be with her. I mean, my entire life she had been RIGHT there, then suddenly she was marching off in her new school uniform with her shiny lunch box, and I was supposed to stay home alone? Ooooh, I was so mad I scribbled in all of her books. Every page. Of every book. Which was kind of dumb since they were my books too. Mom was not happy. I can still remember sitting on the floor between our beds for hours erasing page after page of angry pencil, my dress covered in a growing community of Pink Pearl eraser crumbs.

This might explain why Mom enrolled me in school a year early.

In my job, it's so fun to see close-age siblings at every age. I get to hear their stories at rehearsal dinners, see Maids of Honor and Best Men stand by their buddies at the altar, beaming. And all of them have great stories and closeness. That gets me every time.

These two are going to have such a fun journey together.