adventure · love · Spiritual

An ode to my sisters

sisters

My life will never be the same again.

From the moment that each of you enter my world, red faced and squalling, I understand this.

My life will be filled with much more colour, love and laughter for having you bound excitedly into my family picture frame—all messy handprints, cute freckles and wild hair.

Our dance through life intricately entangled, our hopes and dreams created in the furnace of a shared childhood.

Though you are both younger than me, you teach me about myself and the world, in ways you could never imagine.

You rub off my sharp corners with gentle teasing and mirth, making me a more gentle and loving version of myself.

You teach me selflessness and loyalty and about protecting others. I long to shield you both from the despair of the world, yet part of my learning is to understand that I cannot always protect you.

Most of all, you teach me about friendship. Long before new companions enter our lives, our bonds are tightly formed, best friends for life.

In those precious moments where we become two, and then three, I instinctively know that I will never be alone again.

There will always be two pieces of my heart floating around out there in the world.

Two sets of veins sharing the same lifeblood as me. Two minds that hold the same values of family and deep care for others.

Two sets of blue eyes, the exact same shade as mine, reflecting my own soul when they twinkle mischievously back at me.

As soon as you come into being, I understand how to truly love.

Beyond all else.

To gain that exquisite realisation that I would die for either of you, because there is no reality in which you cannot exist, two shining lights in life’s darkness.

A sister’s love cannot be compared to any other.

It is unconditional—always a safety net against sorrow.

It’s us against the world.

We fight, in ways only siblings can, an entire lifetime of ammunition at our fingertips.

But we never hold a grudge. Always we are friends again before we sleep, creeping into each other’s arms and beds with soothing words, tears and whispered apologies. We may swear and cry and grump and call each other every name under the sun; it’s our sisterly right.

But woe betide the outsider who targets any one of our trio. We rise together in defence, a roaring tsunami, eyes blazing with indignant rage. We know that we always have two supporters fiercely backing us, no matter what.

It’s all for one, and one for all.

Though we are alike in so many ways, I celebrate our differences too, for they compliment each other. We each bring something into the mix that balances the others. We accept each other for who we are, not trying to change the other. This is something I seek to take into other relationships also.

I am proud of you both; strong, beautiful and creative women, who I have watched flourish from the day that you were born.

We will never grow old in each other’s eyes, for always we will remember what we have been.

We have shared heartbreak and celebration, private jokes and secret languages, our histories and memories forever entwined. We have seen each other at our worst and adore each other all the more for it.

Life is a much more exciting journey with my two musketeers beside me, each holding a hand as we venture into the unknown, shoulder to shoulder.

There are many roles that I will take on as I move through the various stages of my quest; career woman, wife, mother, but the one that lingers with me is the one that will never ever change.

I will always be a sister.

Originally published here on Elephant Journal

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