And for that I'm Thankful

I always knew I was special, more special than other kids. I always knew I was lucky; she was living proof of it. When I was young my father traveled for most of the month. My mother had a lot of work as she gripped with 2 children and her job. As my mom often says she never could make much time for me. Yet looking back, I cant remember even one day when I felt neglected or when I missed my parents. But then I suppose I didn’t need to, I always had her.

Everybody was always astounded how different our relationship was. She was like my surrogate mother. It was she who did all my work, from making me study, to planning my parties. Yet she was only 7 years elder to me. Growing up, I remained in total awe of her. And like most annoying kids, I copied everything that she did. Obviously she got irritated but she never really retaliated. Despite the fact we were two very different individuals my identity was based on her. My beliefs came from her thoughts. Someone would think this situation to be surreal, but it couldn’t be more real.

Every year on my birthday she would plan surprises, hide my gifts in different corners of the house. I still remember running all around trying to find those little things. On Christmas, she tried very hard to keep Santa alive; she would come up with weird stories, which were oddly convincing. Yes the first 11 years of my life were beautiful because of her. Then of course came the time when I was faced with reality.
She had to leave.

The three days after she left, I was in a perpetual daze She had gone away. Suddenly, I was left to face life by myself. I was at the point in my life my basic personality was going to develop and I was without the single most important person in my life. It was later I realized that in one way her going away had made me have a mind of her own. But even that realization doesn’t make me stop wanting to turn the clock and somehow keep her with me.

Today she lives thousands of miles away from me. We hardly get to talk once or twice a week. Yet she still is the first person I think of when I’m scared, when I’m depressed and even when I’m happy. Things are different in some ways. Sometimes our roles are reversed, its me who gives worldly advice and soothes and calms her. Yet our relationship never changed. For instance she refuses to stop treating me like a 3 year old. And she still writes essays on me and makes me cry. She still blows every cent she has on my gifts and she still calls me after she’s hung up. And she still reminds me every day that she loves me.

Yeah I always knew I was special, and I know I still am. Because I happen to have the best sister in the world. And for that, I’m thankful.