My lil sister celebrated her 22nd birthday over the weekend by being a part of The Rescue (her first protest) and graduated from college today. And I missed both. I try not to ponder all that I am missing by embarking on this transatlantic journey but I couldn't help thinking of my sister. She has grown up so much. When she loves a quilt with stars and primary colors its difficult to remember that my little sister isn't really little. I wasn't there when she had her first boyfriend or break-up. I missed her 18th birthday, her first day of college, her first college-related freakout. I missed it when she shed her faux shy exterior and boldy preached her heart out from the stage. She isn't the 16 year old she was when I left the first time around. I miss my sister. But more importantly, I am proud of her.
I know I would still win in a tickle fight, wrestling match, or some combination of that in the snow (in my objective memory I am undefeated) but I'm proud of not-so-lil-sis and I love her. And I would so invest a dime and call her up.
