Sisters, Sisters, There Were Never Such Devoted Sisters

I have just spent the last five days and nights with one of my favorite (possibly THE favorite) persons in the world.  Our relationship is a funny one, my sister and I.  It is doubtful that I will be able to convey even a glimpse of that which makes up what lies between us.  But allow me to give it a try anyway...

We are day and night, coffee and tea, hot and cold, quiet and loud, summer and winter, and friendly and reserved.  We are forgiving and harsh, passionate and disinterested, hungry and satisfied, blonde and brunette   But we are each so many varied versions of all of those extremes that when together we are a force to be reckoned with.  We are intimidating.  We are hilarious.  We have secrets. We have hurt each other - horribly.  We have stood up for the other one when no one else did.

It starts with history and shared memories. It finishes with the encouragement and belief that the other one will do great things in this life.  Neither of us would choose the other's life - but I believe we each stand back in awe of the other, admiring their bravery, intellect, gumption and grit.

A sister's love is so much more than that love found between lovers or parents or friends.  It is a love in spite of everything else.  It is an understanding and an allowance and complete acceptance. No one will ever, ever understand how I work quite like my sister.  And I'd like to think that I really do get her as well.

I have never felt such love.  I send out the wish that each of you also can have that kind of person in your life - the kind that given the choice between them and a hundred thousand others to spend an afternoon with doing nothing, you would choose them and they would choose you.

I will always choose her.  I carry her heart. I carry it in my heart.