To my brother and sister,
Pictures of us are pinned haphazardly on the bulletin board in my room. There's one of us, years younger, our arms wrapped tightly around each other in an effort to fit into the photo without parts of our bodies being cut out. We smile crooked, toothy grins, our mouths dotted with holes where our baby teeth used to be. There are recent photos, too, of trips to Tennessee, of graduations, and of proms. You are surrounding me in my room and, yet, you are still somehow so far away.
We were close when we were little, as siblings are. We shared toys, rooms, and video games. We played outside on the small swing set that Grandpa made for us, raced our bikes around the block, and roller-bladed up and down the driveway. We all went to the same school and to the same babysitter. Everything was easy.
When I began middle school, my entire schedule changed. I got up earlier than you for choir practice and stayed late for play rehearsals. Volleyball and dance became my priorities and I got more homework. The time that was spent with you grew shorter. As I grew into that bratty, "I'm too cool for family" phase that every young teenager goes through, it became non-existent.
Our relationship grew strained. I would not be surprised if you hated me during this period of our lives. I screamed at you, refused to spend time with you, and moped around in my room alone. You grew up and I missed it because I was so focused on myself and what I thought were huge problems.
High school passed by and, as the world tends to work, we became closer again during my senior year, right before I was going to graduate, leave for college, and live over 200 miles away from you. It was as if, because I had been so horrible to you in the past, I was given a limited amount of time to fix things. Karma caught up with me.
I am not writing this to you to be nostalgic and to look back on "the good old times." I am, however, writing this to say how proud I am to be your big sister and that I'm sorry for who I was. I'm proud that I am able to brag about how amazing and talented you are. However, I have to watch it all from afar (or at least over the Iowa-Illinois border).
If I could go back in time and visit the 16-year-old version of me, I would tell her to stop being so self-absorbed and to look at the little kids who were growing up beside her.
I wish that I had taken the time to watch you grow up and I wish that I hadn't acted how I did around you. You deserve the world and I hope that I am now making that up to you. After all, we're stuck with each other, so I guess that we might as well be best friends.
