Understanding, Joyful, and Genuine

We sat next to each other on the couch, slowly flipping through the old photo album. I sat on my sister's left side. My sister's husband sat on her right side.

The album had pics from when my sister was a baby up through just after I was born. We're two years apart. She was so cute. The chubby-cheeked, blond-haired girl smiles at us from the album, happy and full of love.

From the moment I was born, she took to the role of older sister as a true champion. One page is filled exclusively with pics of my older sister holding or attempting to hold my hand.

We're so different. From our personalities to our fashion choices, we scream "different."

My older sister is a "I love pink, glitter, and shoes," sort of girl. She's a dance teacher and about as charismatic as they come. People flock to her, especially kids. She's spontaneous and always ready for adventure.

I work almost solely in black and dark gray. I do karate and love swords and superhero movies. I am loyal to a few close friends. And while she's more easy-going, I'm tense. On a day where I'm being kind to myself, I would say I'm a meticulous planner.

I think about the time we went to China together. About how much time I spent packing. The diabetes does force me to plan more anyway, so I thought through everything. I chose each T-shirt with care, trying to pick fabrics that would be best for the climate of the area we would be visiting. I packed triple what I would need for diabetes supplies, because something could always go wrong.

She packed the night before and switched suitcases the morning of our flight.

I went through three phases of our sisterhood relationship. Being the oldest, she was a bit bossy when we were little. In spite of this, anything she did, I had to do too. If she did it, it was cool. Those were just the rules.

Then there was what I like to call my rebellious stage. We didn't fight much, but I went through a time where it was hard to take direction from her. This proved difficult, because we were in a lot of dancing situations where she was teaching and directing me. But it was a time where I learned I could like different things than she did. I didn't have to do everything she did. It was a time of learning how different I truly was from her and learning to accept that as a good thing.

Finally, I reached the stage I like to call established contentment. And it's something I can only describe by explaining the following scene to you.

I'm at one of her studio's dance practices. I'm there to watch. It's before a major performance. And my sister is surrounded by twenty or so of her students. She is reviewing choreography, and they are all engaged in what she is teaching. They're happy to be there, and she is doing what she truly loves.

And when I see that scene, my heart swells. If I'm feeling particularly sappy, my eyes get a little misty. And I think about how wonderful she is and how beautiful it is to see her doing what she loves. I think about who I am and how I wouldn't want to be her, but how I'm so happy she is who she is.

It's her birthday this week. And I thought about who she is and how I would describe her to someone.

My older sister is...

Understanding

She's an empathetic listener. She's the person you take out to coffee when you need to talk. The one who gives you a hug and lets you cry. I think of the good and close relationships she has with other people, the ones that come through investment and meeting people where they are at.

She's able to see things from the perspectives of other people and works to help them. She sees someone hurting and works to alleviate their suffering. I think about the time we were at a coffee shop, and she bought a sandwich for the man outside holding up a cardboard signing saying he needed help.

Some would call her sweet, but it goes deeper than that, because her actions come from a place of loving people and trying to understand their unique circumstances and needs.

Joyful

She radiates joy. She finds the beauty in life, even when circumstances are hard. And it's a hard world we live in. She's had her fair share of hard times and difficult situations. She fixes on the roses in the midst of the thorns.

She finds a way to focus on the good she can do rather than focusing on what she can't do. I think about the difficulties of Covid and the obstacles she has had to work through regarding her studio. Through it all, her attitude has been, "If I can't do this, then I'll do something else."

She finds wonder in the ordinary. The gifts of the moment. She finds something to be thankful for, even when it would be easy to find something to complain about instead.

Genuine

A lot people look at my older sister, and they get to see the teacher side. The charismatic side that draws the crowds of people to her. But I've seen the side that a lot of people don't get to see. Her vulnerabilities as well as her strengths.

And I realize the self she presents to the world is her true self. The smile is real. The prayer truly is humble. The excitement she shows springs from a heart full of joy and peace. A heart that knows where that peace comes from.

She's not hiding what she believes and why she believes it. She admits her strengths and weaknesses.

And she dances, embracing and giving thanks for the fleeting and good moments of this life, each more precious than diamonds.

I think about who she is and how she is beautiful. And I think about how different she is from me and how good that is.

For I realize that I am beautiful too, with my own strengths and weaknesses. My own hardships and battles to fight. And I'm glad I have a sister like her to balance who I am. Yes, best friends and sisters forever.

Happy birthday, sis.