and to that beautiful thing called sisterhood.
photo credit: karen kingsbury
by the way, do i not have the MOST gorgeous sister ever?!
today is your birthday.
i remember the day you were born. i was only like 17 months old myself, i know. but even though i was a baby too, i just knew you were a little breath of heaven. the day mom and dad brought you home from the hospital, i kissed you on the head and i've loved you since that moment.
and man, did we have fun.
by the way - dad sure was handsome!
remember the ice cream cones, that little orange table where we sat and played with playdough? the bubbles, the rolly pollys, the cotton wood tree in our front yard where we'd play barbies for hours? we were besties and we knew it.
remember how we used to laugh? we laughed so hard in those days, our tummies hurt. i can still laugh with you like nobody else. and i love that.
do you remember when got to float in the dead sea in israel? that was crazy amazing. and then that night, we got a room all our own next door to mom and dads at the dead sea spa hotel? that was the first fancy hotel we ever stayed in.
and all through our teen years, when we sang to thousands and thousands of people every weekend, which made everybody treat us like we were special and not real, somehow ... you were the only one i could just be normal and real with. we were the only ones who really understood. and it was okay, because we had our secret language - that glance and look. we could read each other's thoughts without putting them into words.
i remember, back in high school, the day i lost the first guy i ever cared about. he walked out the door, never to be seen again. i went up to your bedroom, first thing - and before i even shed a tear, i found you sitting there on the floor, crying your eyes out for me. and then i laid down, put my head in your lap and had my first real, long, heart-wrenching cry over a boy. you just stroked my hair and told me everything would be okay.