Monday, June 13, 2011
I never had a sister, and I won't tell you I wanted one, because I didn't. I didn't want to share my toys. I didn't want to share my mother's attention. I didn't want to barter over radio stations or squish three deep in a shower. No. Who would want that? Not me.
Only... if someone told me that my sister could have been YOU? Well, then I'd have to change my mind. Sometimes you get yelled at because we want you to be "Nicer, Sweeter, More Patient, blah blah..." and of course, there is always room for improvement.
But today, when I heard you quietly demanding something of you baby sister (Gracie who is five) and both of you were crying, but it wasn't a sound meant for me. And then I found you holding onto one another and your eyes found mine... and the two of you looked at each other and she reached for you again. And I saw the plastic bag on the ground and knew what happened. But you told me anyway, you darling thing.
"Mommy, tell her never, ever put a bag on her head," you whispered, still holding her.
"Never ever EVER put a bag on your head, sweet Grace," I said. And then "How lucky you are to have a sister who wants to keep you safe."
I suppose, if I'd had a choice. I would have wanted a sister. But only if I could have chosen you.
PS: She's not crazy. It's genetic. I too put a plastic bag on my head when I was her age. Ah... she's got a lot of me in her, that Grace. Now see? You have to be EXTRA patient. She probably thought a hobbit lived in there.....