My sister knows me better than anyone in the world. She knows my secrets. She knows how to cheer me up. She knows how to push my buttons. She knows my insecurities. Things I would never say out loud to anyone else, I say to her. I miss her so much.
We hung out tonight. On the phone. She lives in Virginia. There was an earthquake 30 miles from her house this past week. A hurricane is coming. She’s in the midst of a move, yet we spent three hours on the phone. She listened to my giggles. At one point I teared up. She told me a funny story about taking her 4-year-old to the doctor. She told me what I wanted to hear, and she didn’t hold back when she needed to say something I needed to hear (though she did give me my medicine with a bit of sugar. Just how I like it. Thanks, sis.).
Growing up, we’d get in our fights and I’d whine to my parents, “Why did you have to have another kid?” They always had the same response: “You’ll like her someday.” Yeah, they were right. I do love her. I don’t think I’ve ever loved her as much as I have this past year. There are a lot of people on Team Candace, but she’s the captain of the team. She’s the one who would make the T-shirts and bring the orange slices to practice.
Kelly, thank you for being my constant. I hope you know that I’d do the the same for you, a million times over. Love you!
I’m a journalist, content strategist, doting auntie, amateur bobsledder, fitness enthusiast, and wannabe health nut (who loves chocolate and pizza too much to fully commit). I don't want you to think my life is perfect. It's not.