Baby Sissy Love

They brought her home.  Papi taped up “NO SMOKING” signs all over the house.  He presented me with this little living cherub doll wrapped up snuggly.  She made me sleepy to look at, she seemed so cozy.  I don’t think I understood that this little human would never leave.  My parents must have suspected I would be incredibly confused and possibly insanely jealous so they softened the blow with a little “bribe” gift.  Cabbage Patch dolls were all the rage and it wasn’t a doll, YET, but it was a playset that held me off long enough not to bite my chunky baby sister in a fit.  She was so quiet but that didn’t last long.  She was a colic baby.  I was THE most tired kindergartener EVER in life.  I would just watch her cry and wonder how they thought I would be able to sleep through her wailing, it was a joke.  And so our adventure into sisterhood began.

I had a dream a few years after my baby sister’s birth that I was holding her hand to cross the street and all of a sudden, she deflated like a balloon.  I began to panic and cry in my dream.  I look back on that knowing that my hold on her, watching over her, can be suffocatingly tight.  I can’t help it.  I get so defensive of her and will fight anyone in a second if they mess with her.  That’s not to say I was the best big sister, I was NOT.  I bullied her until she got big enough to stop me.  She was Daddy’s baby and I always felt this “she’s the baby, just give her what she wants” energy that would make me act out.  Maybe because we were latch key kids so young, too.  I always had this tag-along I was responsible for so my frustration would come out in not so nice ways.  I better apologize for that but then again…  She had her ways of getting me back.  Stealing my clothes and make up and I remember one time she brought my bra outside for all the neighborhood boys to see in an attempt to embarrass me.  (It didn’t work.  I was pretty proud of needing a bra, thank-you-very-much!)  It’s what sisters do, right?  We would fight and then laugh.  We didn’t have a choice, we were stuck with one another, no matter how crazy we made each other, we were all we had.  Abuelita used to remind us of that constantly.  She would tell us, “that is your ONLY sister.  You girls need each other.”  No truer statement has been made. 

We have held one another through the loss of our parents, through the birth of our girls and all of life’s hurts.  We have pushed one another to grow and face our shit when no one else will be THAT honest with us.  We have fought and reflected, and apologized. 

My sister is such an incredible mother.  I always knew she would be.  When we were little, she took such pride in cooking and serving others.  She just had that nurturing piece- it was always prominent.  She is artistic and wise.  We joke all the time about who is prettier but I fully know the truth deep down, she is drop dead gorgeous.  A perfect reflection of my father’s heart shaped lips and my mother’s smile.  Camille is blessed with Papi’s fashion sense ALL the way.  She rocks her outfits like a walking piece of fine art.  She pushes me to venture out of my comfort zone in what I wear and how I wear it.  I will never match her creative fashion funk.  We admire and celebrate our unique styles.  Camille is my biggest cheerleader and she is the best friend that knows all my ugly loving me anyway.

This month she celebrates her 37^th birthday and I wish so very much for her.  Probably too much cuz that’s what my overbearing big sister self does.  Lol! I am so proud of her and I KNOW my parents are overjoyed with who she is and has yet to become.  It’s just us and our baby brother left of our immediate family.  It is on us to carry out the legacy of our loving parents to our children.  We feel the heaviness of doing that WELL every single day.  Please join me in wishing her the happiest birthday and BEST new year of life.  I pray that it brings an overflowing of blessings and happiness!  This one’s for you Special Sissy!!!