My sister is gonna hate this…

I realized that last year, wedding year, I wrote posts about my mom and dad on their respective days. But it being siblings day, I can tell you a little about my sister – my matron of honor (if we are keeping the wedding theme going). First of all, she will hate this because feelings are not her thing. But buckle up, sis, I’m bringing all the feelings.

So there I was, sitting for the toasts at the reception and the best man finishes a really beautiful speech. I expect my dad to start or my maid of honor to go up. My sister hates being the center of attention (yes, we are opposites) and had decided not to give a matron of honor toast. But as I looked around for my dad, my sister appears at the front of the hall with the microphone in hand. She tells the story of our complicated childhood of her constant torments (she tried to sell me outside a grocery store when I was a baby for 5 cents) and she talks about how totally different we are. Then she says we are the best of friends now. And I was a puddle. She of course ended the speech by tormenting me one more time. But that’s my sister. She’s surprising and complicated.

Actually, she’s simple and complicated. She’s simple in that she says exactly what she thinks. There is no guessing on subtext or implications. My sister is the most honest, straightforward human I have ever known. Sometimes to a fault. I’m the opposite. I’m not a liar, my sister would have never put up with that crap. No, I’m a diplomat — younger siblings often are the mediators and the family– I say only what needs to be said or I say the things that you don’t want to hear in a way that you might be okay hearing them. Not my sister, if that dress is ugly, you will KNOW that dress is ugly. And she isn’t trying to hurt your feelings, that’s what you have to know about my sister. In fact, she’s trying to help you. She wants you to look good. This was something I had to remind myself while we were wedding dress shopping. She wants me to look good, she wants me to be gorgeous on my wedding day. That is why she said that the strapless number with the ruffles I loved made me look like a marshmallow. My sister would never do something out of malice…she is far too kind for that.

And THAT is where she is so complicated. You see this honest, doesn’t give a fuck exterior and you think she’s tough, she’s hard, she doesn’t care about what you think or anything. That is where you don’t know my sister like I do. She is incredibly kind. She is so amazingly unselfish and giving. She’s generous…to a fault. And she’s so funny. My sister makes me laugh more than most people. She’s got this great brand of self deprecating humor that comes directly from my grandmother. My Mimi. When Mimi passed away, for a while, the only person that I wanted to talk to was my sister. Because she made me laugh, she let me cry and then she made me stop…because all those pesky feelings.

But here is her secret: she’s got more feelings than any of us. Underneath it all, she’s sensitive. I don’t think she cried during my wedding ceremony, but at the end of the father/daughter dance, I snuck a peek at her wiping her eyes and sniffling.

My sister has taught me how to not take shit which I am still working on.  My sister has taught me not to care what other people think of me.  My sister has taught me to step outside my comfort zone. She’s taught me about honesty, about expectations, about life…

I’m so lucky that she is my big sister. She was my first friend, my first enemy and my first teacher.

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