I was at least three months younger than all of my friends, so I had spent nearly a year asking for rides from people, when I finally got the freedom to be behind the wheel alone. It opened a whole new world to me. I could go anywhere I wanted (within 30 minutes of my house), and if I wanted a sidekick for my adventure, I could grab my little sister. I've spent the last three years driving my sister around, and while it has been annoying to have to pick her up from the movies at midnight, our car rides are some of our best times for bonding. She picks the music, I roll down the windows, and we ride off to raise some Hell (go to Sonic for half-price shakes). Lately, there has been tons of talk in the Gauthier house about getting her a car, about her needing more driving experience, and about her not needing us for rides anymore.

Wait, when did you get this old?

Wasn't it just yesterday that you were yelling at me to "Dop it Dosie!" because I was being loud while you watched Caillou?

Are you going to need me anymore when you can drive yourself?

As an older sister who lives 452 miles away from her little sister for nine months out of the year, it gets tough when you realize that your kid sister will be just as independent as you or that she already is. When I'm at school, I can ignore her growing up and pretend that she's still the nine-year-old soccer superstar who devotes all of her time to juggling a soccer ball in the driveway, trying to beat her record over and over again. But being home this summer has been a bit of a slap in the face because I can't ignore the fact that she is not a baby anymore. I can't pretend that she will still need me to take her and her friends to Waffle House at 11 P.M. when she has her own car. I can't avoid the fact that she is thinking about college, and that she might end up even farther away from me than she already is.

I'm starting to feel what I imagine parents feel as they watch their kids grow up. It's nice being able to talk to her about more "grown up" things, but I still wish that she was young enough to not have to worry about the dangers of driving, the pain of heartbreak, or the insecurities she might have about herself. I wish I could protect her from anything and everything that might have even just a bit of a thought about hurting her, but the thing is, I have to protect myself from those things, too. So sometimes, I might not be able to push her out of the way when a stupid boy who only wants to take advantage of her vulnerability is heading straight at her, and I might not be able to redirect her route when she's walking into a jam of bad influence friends, which she won't be able to get out of for a full school year. What I can always do, though, is BE THERE. I can always be there to pick up the phone and talk to her when she's crying. I can always be there to listen to her vent about a teacher who just doesn't seem to be giving her a fair shot. I might not be able to pull her out of every burning building myself, but I can always be there once she pulls herself out of it. The whole point of growing up is to learn to take care of yourself and to learn how to identify bad situations on your own. Your parents and your siblings can do as much as they can to teach you how to spot them, but at some point, it'll be your turn to do it yourself.

I know that I've shown her enough about studying, about being confident, and about being yourself that she can do it on her own, now. As an older sibling, you have believe that you showed them the right way to do things, and you have to know that even though you might not be there all the time to prevent the bad things, you'll always be there to help with the aftermath and to help them learn from it.