Being a Sister is a beautiful and sometimes complicated relationship. But for me and my youngest sister we were best friends for 53 years. We had a lifetime of love, hurt, laughter & pain. Because that’s what Sisters do.
As a teenager, I helped raise my younger sisters after my parents got divorced. It wasn’t always easy, I was 16 and took on a parental role. Not trying to take anything away from my parents but they were thrown into the career / working worlds and I was at home with my two younger sisters. I worked at McDonald, was a sophomore in high school, dropped off and picked up my sisters from school, made sure we did our homework, fixed dinner, did laundry, paid bills & dragged them to the high school football games because I was on the drill team. In a way, at 16, I became a surrogate Mom to my younger sisters, while still trying to be a teenager myself.
We built a bond no one else will ever understand. Friends always asked me why I “didn’t date.” I made flimsy excuses, such as “There’s no one I like”, but the truth is, while my friends were going on dates, I was home with my sisters. If I did go on a date, I made sure it was something I could do & take my sisters with me. Roller skating was the go too. We came as a packed deal.
I was pushed into a grown up world at a young age. I didn’t look at it that way at the time. My parents were divorced and my Dad was living in a different city & my Mom was working out of town or late at night. She would send me money to pay the bills. You know, Utility, Power, Gas, Groceries, etc. And if there wasn’t enough, I used the money I made at #McDonalds to supplement it.
Right before my Senior year, I had a decision to make. Move with my Mom and her new boyfriend to a new city or go back and live with my Dad and finish high school at the school where I at least knew some people and had gone to school with them in Middle School and 1/2 of my Sophomore year. I chose that & moved back in with my Dad.
But what happened next caused a break in the relationship with my Mom that I’m not sure we ever fully recovered from. My two younger sisters told my Mom they wanted to go with me. They chose to go where I went to live & didn’t move with our Mom. At 17 years old, I was their stability. I became the parent in a way that followed us well into adulthood.
I lost my older brother when I was 22. But never did I ever believe that my baby sister would go before me too. In a way, I can’t figure out if I’ve lost another Sibling or a Child. I raised her. But one thing is for certain, a part of me died with her. The part of me that was a part of her. Now, I’m working to figure out who I am, in this new world, without my Baby Sister. 🦋🤍
We have 2 choices after the loss of someone we love. ❤️ Either it destroys us, or it inspires us. I think we know the answer, go find out who you are now. There’s a new you, a happy you, a content you, just waiting to emerge. Let go, you’ll find you. I promise. 🤍🦋 It’s what they want for you. ❤️