The Gift
The Gift. When I was 10 years old, and my brother was 8, our parents gave us a most wonderful gift. That gift was my little sister. She was a gift in more ways than one. For not only did she bring us unimaginable joy, we learned parenting skills that I’m sure I’ve used later in life.
We were plunged into a world of brotherly responsibility. And we accepted that responsibility gladly. You mix the good with the bad, forget the bad and remember only the good. Toss the dirty diapers in the pail and just remember the giggling smile, and the made up languages, and the repetitive jokes about bunnies that didn’t make sense.
We took care of her like she was….well, like she was our little sister. When she was 8 yrs old I started going to sea for extended periods with the navy. My mom would tell me my little sister always asked where I was, and when would I be back. I guess she missed me as much as I missed her.
There’s always been 10 yrs between us, and it’s only recently I’ve stopped introducing her as ‘my little sister’. These past few days she’s had the chance to take care of her big brother. She went out of her way to meet me at the train station at night; guided me through the unfamiliar commuter system with all my luggage, and provided shelter when I needed it most. She even made sure I had snacks for the next leg of the trip.
When I think about it, I start crying. In fact, I’m crying as I write this. She’s gone to sleep, and I got out of bed while these thoughts were still fresh in my mind. I can’t thank her enough. And although she’s all grown up, and I don’t say the term when introducing her anymore, she’ll always be my little sister. Way to go, Stacy!
We were plunged into a world of brotherly responsibility. And we accepted that responsibility gladly. You mix the good with the bad, forget the bad and remember only the good. Toss the dirty diapers in the pail and just remember the giggling smile, and the made up languages, and the repetitive jokes about bunnies that didn’t make sense.
We took care of her like she was….well, like she was our little sister. When she was 8 yrs old I started going to sea for extended periods with the navy. My mom would tell me my little sister always asked where I was, and when would I be back. I guess she missed me as much as I missed her.
There’s always been 10 yrs between us, and it’s only recently I’ve stopped introducing her as ‘my little sister’. These past few days she’s had the chance to take care of her big brother. She went out of her way to meet me at the train station at night; guided me through the unfamiliar commuter system with all my luggage, and provided shelter when I needed it most. She even made sure I had snacks for the next leg of the trip.
When I think about it, I start crying. In fact, I’m crying as I write this. She’s gone to sleep, and I got out of bed while these thoughts were still fresh in my mind. I can’t thank her enough. And although she’s all grown up, and I don’t say the term when introducing her anymore, she’ll always be my little sister. Way to go, Stacy!
posted by HotShot at 11:35 PM
3 Comments:
thanks Sean.
That bought tears to my eyes, i've never heard you talk about your sister with such love before. i'm glad you got to see her for a bit.
i know what it is like..there are 13 years between me and my little sister... i was the one who practically raised her. And when i went off into the world, she would always ask when i was coming back... so i know what you are going through...glad you had a wonderful time with your little grown up sis... hugs to you...
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