At around 9 p.m. each night, I climb into my semi-lofted double bed, take out whatever assigned reading I have to do for the next day and pretend to soak in the words that sit before me. Usually, I get distracted by the internet, sometimes a friend knocks on my door and laughs that I'm already in my PJs, but on a rare occasion I call up one of my sisters. On these special nights that I catch my sister on her break or the other not doing her homework, I get comfy in my brightly printed comforter and listen as we catch up on our lives.
We talk about things happening at home, stressful events that seem to be consuming our lives, and about nonsense MTV reality TV shows. These 45 minute phone conversations, although full of silly banter and poop jokes, leave me with a sense of longing for the small bathroom and two rooms all three of us used to share.
The close quarters, where we could have conversations through thin walls, filled with epic races to the sink each morning, seemed to shrink as we grew, making our spaces impossible for privacy. No one was safe to sing on the top of her lungs with out criticism from the panel of judges who yelled scores from their beds. No one was safe to talk to their boyfriends in the yellow painted walk in closet without two little sisters listening at the door. No one was safe to write in a diary with the label “KEEP OUT MADDIE” because obviously I’m going to read about Claire's dramatic day at school. I remember being so excited to leave and have my own space, to live on my own and find new go to gals but what I didn’t realize was the fun and love that surrounded me during those 18 years in my parents' house was something that could never be recreated again.
We were protected by constant love in each room. Whenever a tear hit the pillow, a sister or mom or dad would be there to cuddle the pain away. Someone would always be there to tell you silly stories or watch "Harry Potter" movies with you until you fell asleep. Someone would always be there no matter what. Today that bond is still there but there's space between us that sometimes the virtual cuddles cannot reach. Someone is always there for me. I know that but I sure do miss them.
Now calls and texts are exchanged and I have had to learn what it means to live (semi) on my own (because college is still an amazing time of food being cooked for you). I have now developed a system where my sister’s roles of endless entertainment and advice are temporarily filled. Filled by the friends and people around me. The role of cuddling is taken by pillows, with a plus side that they never argue about being the big spoon and never punch you in the back during a good night of sleep. I am learning to live without constant physical contact with my amazing support system but it’s dang hard. It's hard but I am getting by.
To Maren, Claire, Daadz and Mama, thank you for loving me and always listening to my cheesy, dramatic, nonsensical life. As the baby of the family, I look up to each one of you and hope that I too can become as awesome of a person as you are.
Love,
Maddie (the cutest of the daughters)
