From Sisters to Friends

I remember the day my mother brought my sister home, forever terminating my only child reign. I don't remember anything tangible about that day: whether it was raining or sunny, what I was wearing, or what I was playing with. All I remember is the intense jealousy I felt every time I caught my mother looking down lovingly at that little powdery lump. I was three. Three years and three days old to be exact.

I stoked that angry resentment for years, striking out at Jessica whenever I could. I pulled her braids, pinched her bottom, and sat on her until she cried hot tears of frustration. I was a rotten big sister, right up until I went off to boarding school in high school. The years of distance improved our relationship, but it wasn't until we became adults, until we both became mothers, that something miraculous happened.

We became friends. Friends who talk on the phone, share dreams and frustrations, friends who count on each other.

Last week, we went to BlogHer together and spent an amazing four days together. Everyone we met was so surprised we were sisters. They all assumed that we were friends. Truth is, we're now finally both.

Happy Wordful, Wordless and Way-back wednesday!

This is an original Chefdruck post. Please don't copy without my permission.