To my Big Sis
I remember when I was little and wanted to play with you and your friends, how you would let me for a little bit but then when you had to talk about “big girl” stuff you kicked me out. I remember how you and I used to absolutely torture our little sister. I remember once when you came home for a visit and went to church with us. One of the older boys said “wow who is that pretty girl?” I remember being so proud to say “She’s my Sister.” I remember how your hair never moved. I remember all the dorks you brought home and how I drove them crazy with silly questions, and they never came back. I remember when you brought home Finn. His hands shook all the time, he was really shy and I remember giving you a hug and saying “This one’s a keeper, I like him.” I remember going to visit you and we would watch movies and when we drove anywhere you always had the rear view mirror positioned so you could see yourself. I remember your wedding, when you married Finn, you were so beautiful. I remember when your first daughter was born. I was so happy and proud to be an Aunt. I remember when you had your second daughter. Again I was so happy, two adorable little girls for me to spoil.
Of all the things I remember, I don’t remember ever being close to you. I don’t remember “knowing” you. I remember the baby voice you used when talking to me. It made me feel small. I remember feeling unimportant. I remember being so tongue tied around you. Being 10 years younger just made me feel like we would never be close. Once I was married and had a child of my own you stopped with the baby voice. You teased me less, made me feel like I was important. We talk more now, but only of trivial things. I am still scared that you won’t like me. I wish we were closer. I wish I could say the things to you that I think. I wish I could tell you that the time we went to Rainbow Valley and Finn yelled at me, you didn’t stand up for me and it really hurt my feelings. I wish I could tell you that sometimes I think your kids are so spoiled they can be downright nasty. I wish I could tell you that it hurts me when you make fun of mom.
I wish I could tell you that despite everything I think you are a great mom. I wish I could tell you that I respect you for how far you’ve come in life. I wish I could tell you that I think you are brave.
I wish I could tell you all of this, but I can’t. I am too scared.
I wish I could give you this letter.