Aunt E. (pronounced like Auntie)

We have a special treasure in our house. Her name is Aunt E. (which is pronounced like Auntie) Aunt E is my younger (and my only) sister and my best girl friend. We have been best friends all our lives. I was only 2 when E was born and do not remember life without her. We shared a room until I was 13 and thought I was too big to share a room with my little sister. (Like Lucy tells Susan, "We use to have fun until you became boring.")There have been times when I thought I didn't need my little sister or when she was just too pesky but she has always made me realize that I was wrong and no one has been a better friend to me that she has.

We have our occasional tiff. We disagree on many things. I am Rick Springfield to her REM. I am Bestseller List to her Obscure Irish Playwright. I am Coffee to her Tea. I am Dark Brown Hair to her Fair Hair. I am Tanned Skin to her Sunburned skin. I am Minivan to her Volvo.

We are alike where it matters. We share a lifetime of memories. We share trips to New Mexico in the back of a station wagon. We share our love for an awsome big brother. We share late night whispers under the covers. We share adventures in the Jungle. We share swims in the Guadalupe and sunsets over tribal hill. We share parents who got it right. We share tears over dateless nights. We share professors who wore the same pants day after day after day. We shared tears of sadness under those same covers over the death of our mother, our mentor, our other best friend. We share a deep wholehearted love for three little boys. We share a deep love for our Lord. Our hearts are connected. Our lives are intertwined.

Tonight as Aunt E got ready to head home from our Christmas visit, (she only lives 53 miles away) Butch wouldn't let her go. He cried, clung to her and made her stay until he went to sleep. I could hear her singing, "Mares eat oats, and does eat oats and little lambs eat ivy." to him as he drifted off to sleep with his head in her lap and her fingers running through his hair. Guess what Butch, sometimes I cry when she leaves too.

Comments

[kara]

I love this post! I have a sister about whom I feel the same way. She lives 900 miles away so I really do cry when she leaves. I thought the post was really touching and then I got to the end where you mentioned that your sister sings, "Mares eat oats..."" that's when I almost started boo hooing. My grandmother used to sing that to my sister and I. Another reason to love you and your blog!

[Athena]

Kara, Are you sure we were not seperated at birth?

[DeputyHeadmistress]

This made me cry, and I don't even have a sister!