No, my sister did not pay me to write this, although I probably could have made her pay me. My sister is eight years older than I am, which also means she just turned the big 30 in December. She got the short end of the stick. By the time I was old enough to want to be just like her, she was old enough to not want a snot-nosed kid following her around, but somehow I still managed to be with her a majority of the time. Growing up in a small town and going to a small school, there was no lack of teachers calling me “Ashlee.” Fun fact about me: I hated being called “Ashlee,” because I’m independent. I’m not that much like my sister. If someone called me that they got a glare and a correction really quickly. People have called me and thought they were talking to her if they didn’t ask first. I’ve had her old classmates come up and talk to me as though I was her. It made me so confused because I didn’t know those people!
Looking back I cannot help but laugh at how adamant I was to be different than my sister, especially knowing just how much alike we are now. We both graduated from the same high school in the top of our class. We both love to write, especially poetry although mine doesn’t always rhyme. We both enjoy chick flicks. We cannot stand tomatoes, although tomato sauce is a whole different ballgame. We love our hair being played with. The list could go on and on.
We’ve had the kind of relationship that went from her being so annoyed by me that she would ignore me to we can barely go a week without at least talking on the phone for ten minutes. Those ten minutes can very quickly turn into two hours if we’re not careful. She’s always the one I call when something goes wrong and I need to talk it out, or when something goes right and I want to brag.
There have been many times that one of us was so upset by something that only the other could cheer us up. Around two years ago, our uncle passed away in a unexpected way. As soon as I found out, the initial reaction was for me to go home, but then I realized that my sister would be at hospice with my aunt and I did a U-turn as soon as I could and rushed there. She was the only person that could even remotely cheer me up. I went back to her house, and we just cried.
When no one else was there, when no one else could understand the pain and the heartache, she did. She’s been my rock through all of the hardships. I am proud to say that my sister is my best friend.
