I was born February 8, 1980. On February 7, 1983, my sister, Dana was born. Now, I am pretty sure I didn't ask my mom and dad for a sister for my birthday, but some of the best presents I've ever gotten were those I never requested. From what I understand, due to the fact that my party would have to be postponed, everyone attempted to keep the fact that it was my birthday from me out of fear I would freak out. A week later, on the day of my rescheduled party, my mom, holding a week-old dressed-up Dana, asked me if I thought my sister looked cute. I replied with a resounding, "No". My mother, thinking she and my father had ruined my sweet and pleasant demeanor by having another baby, cried that day. When my cousin, Lyle, arrived to my party, I told him to go home. Siblinghood had seemingly turned me from a meek and mild little girl into a jealous and grumpy monster.

As it turns out, Dana ended up being pretty cool...after she grew up and started walking and talking, and able to maneuver a Barbie doll. I always had a pal, someone to play with, and laugh with, and fight with. She had these fat little cheeks and an infectious giggle. Even then, she was frustratingly impatient. She hated veggies and loved candy. She was always trying to get away with something. She was a true diva, and she was my best friend.


Our most dreaded, and delightful days were those in which our parents would announce that we would be spending the weekend cleaning our bedroom. A horrid task which included clearing out our jam-packed closet and exploring the darkest depths underneath our beds. The only thing we managed to accomplish was the creation of a mountain of neglected toys at the opening of the closet, and several hours of playing Barbies. We would inevitably end up on the receiving end of a punishment for never completing the task at hand. I was always more upset about this punishment than Dana was, she was fearless. The only punishment that seemed to upset her was when she was forced to stand in the corner, likely because it required her to stay in one place for an extended period of time. 

That same restlessness would eventually take her to Chicago, and then Florida. She now resides in Virginia, with her boyfriend, her dog, and a little girl growing in her belly. A little girl I am assuming is waiting impatiently to make her grand debut...a debut that could happen any day now. I miss her and wish more than anything she lived closer so I could see her more often. It has been years since we have celebrated our birthdays together. When she visits, saying goodbye when she leaves is always just as hard as it was the first time she moved away. When she does visit, though, we come together as if we've never been apart.

We do not agree on everything. For example, she thinks I drive too slow, and alternately, I am annoyed by the fact that she is of the opinion that I drive too slow. The older we get the less similar we become. The geographical distance between us has caused our relationship to evolve into something much different from the one we had when we were little girls giggling behind a pile of toys in our empty closet. Different does not mean worse, or even less significant, however. We are adults, and have carved out our own unique lives in this world. Technology makes it a little easier to be apart. I rarely go even a day without talking to her on a gadget of some sort.

We love each other. We root for each other. I don't remember my life before she existed, and I don't wish to imagine a future without her. Maybe I wasn't so thrilled at first to have my birthday hijacked by a tiny human, but it didn't take long for me to realize that I'm lucky to get to share my special day with my own sister.

"It's enough to make kings and vagabonds, believe the very best..."  ~ Elton John