32 years ago today my first best friend was born.
Back when we still thought that Little Man would be a Little Sister, I wrote this piece that shares a smidgen of my heart on the importance of sisters…
Reposted from Jan. 2013:
Our girls hail from a long line of sisters.
My paternal grandmother grew up as the oldest of three sisters. My maternal grandmother is the second of four sisters.
My mother-in-law is the oldest of two sisters. My mother is the oldest of two sisters. I am the oldest of three sisters. (I grew up with one and the other was born, along with two brothers, when I was in high-school.) Of our pack of five cousins who grew up like siblings, four were girls. My sister has three girls. I have also birthed three girls.
Of course, there are SOME men in our overwhelmingly female family tree, and we are thankful for how they temper the plentiful branches of the x-chromosome variety. Years ago, my Dad was gifted a sign that reads “There’s a special place in Heaven for the Father of three girls.”
I’m thankful that our girls have been blessed with the companionship of a sister. Growing up, I shared everything with my sister. From the time of our parents’ divorce when I was four, we grew up in two houses: Sunday through Wednesday at our mom’s house, Thursday through Saturday at our dad and stepmother’s. We had two separate and distinct lives in our two homes- two beds, two sets of clothes, two bikes, two birthdays annually, two sets of toys, two sets of rules. No overlapping. We changed out of our clothes upon our arrival at one house and set them aside for our return days later.
The single constant between those two lives was my sister who traveled with me, and we shared a room at each house. And even though she loves to retell about the time I cut her Barbie’s hair off, or when I threw her shoes in the creek behind our house, or the incident when I locked her outside the house naked– she was truly my best friend.
In recent years, God has blessed me with additional Sisters; allies who have simply outgrown the title friend. A Sister is more than someone who merely shares your genetic makeup. A Sister is someone who you can be yourself with– good, bad, and ugly. A Sister is not a carbon copy of yourself, her differences often stretch and inspire you. A Sister doesn’t merely parrot back what you want to hear, but speaks truth– even when it hurts. A Sister is not unaware of your imperfections, yet chooses to see the best in you. These Sisters remind me of one of my favorite verses of scripture, from 1 Corinthians 13:7, “Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.”
Our girls are overjoyed in anticipation of another sister, and I’m thankful that they already recognize biology has little to do with true Sisterhood. We regularly refer to the girls as “Best-Friend-Sisters” and pray that they will remember the value of such a precious relationship, regardless of it’s origin.
Happy birthday, Bethany. I’m glad you were born.