She was the one closest to my mother. The two of them would talk up a storm, having all those mother/daughter chats that women ache to have with their daughters. They were the best of friends.
She had talent out the wazoo. She could sing. She could act. She had oodles and oodles of friends. She had handsome boyfriends. She could write. She could do math with ease. She was her high school valedictorian. Her SAT scores were way the hell up there. She went to a name college. She went to a name law school. She clerked for a judge in Hawaii for a year. She worked, first, for a name law firm and then the House of Mouse and now a major movie studio. She traveled throughout Europe. She went to Australia. She found true love. A couple of times.
In short, she was everything I was. Times two. Or maybe three. (Hell, she's the math genius. Ask her.)
Who wouldn't hate an older sister who was all of those things?
* * *
I can't sleep tonight. I think it's because she continues to bowl me over with all that she is. She sent me an email yesterday, recounting something she had written as an exercise while doing a chick workshop on Sunday. [I speak with disdain about such a workshop because I would never have the guts to go to an event like that. See, she's braver than me, too.]
I won't tell you what she wrote about me, about us. It's not my place to share it. Shit, the girl's a lawyer, folks, you don't think she'd nail me for copyright infringement or something like that? [Take that, Performance Systems International.] Seriously, it just doesn't seem right to share it.
I will share, however, that it touched me beyond belief. For all my faults, for all my lacking in every department when pitted against this woman one-on-one, she finds things in me to adore, to cherish, to love. And that is something mighty damn special coming from my amazing sister.
I love you, too, Sis. I don't regret much in my life. I could probably count my regrets on one hand. (The one with five digits, not the one mangled in the unspeakable accident years ago. Which I don't blame you for, really. Really.)
Two of my regrets have something to do with you. One, that I wore as a badge of honor for far too long that it was dislike I had for you (when it was clearly jealousy). Two, that my Daughter won't know the pleasures of having a sister.