Missy Mug
Chances are that your Instagram feed was a collection of brother and sister pictures this past Sunday for #NationalSiblingsDay. Some siblings choose the recent perfect lighting, perfect smiles, while others reach deep into the archives to give all their followers a journey back to their most embarrassing moments. Either way, social media outlets provide a great opportunity to share your appreciation for the people who grew up right alongside you. All the laughs and all the tears captured in the photos represent lasting memories that most siblings have the joy of sharing their whole lives. Memories of this time and that other time and every other had-to-be-there moment you’ve created together.
From what I hear, the majority of siblings don’t get along all the time. Bickering and arguing and fighting over who could play with what toy or who “borrowed” whose new sweater. For me, it wasn’t like that. We aren’t just sisters. We’re best friends.
As the youngest, I’ve had the privilege of watching my sister’s life unfold four years ahead of mine. Whether it was joining a new sport, taking certain classes in high school or even graduating from NC State, being the youngest allowed me to see how situations played out before I had to make any decisions about my own. I learned the do’s and don’ts by using her experiences. It’s like having a test run four years in advance of what works well and what could work differently and how it could work even better.
Taking her advice helped shape my life, and I wouldn’t be the person I am today without having my sister as my role model. If she didn’t join the elementary rec-soccer team, I don’t know if it would be my favorite sport today. If I didn’t see her stay up till the early hours of the morning studying for her honors and AP classes, I don’t know if I would’ve had the work ethic to even take them. If she never decided to go to college 10 hours away from our home, I probably wouldn’t have gotten on the plane either.
Things as superficial as getting to wear her perfect eighth grade dance dress that she diligently sought after and hearing about the best place to park in the high school lot to avoid all the congestion may have only made tiny differences in the long run, but hey, they were good differences regardless. Doing similar things just let us make that many more memories together. We weren’t on the same soccer team, but we still share our memories of being on the field. We weren’t in school at the same time, but we are still both part of the Wolfpack.
Her life determined mine in every way, big and small. Lucky for me, my sister is the most successful person I know. She moved out after graduating college with a job already lined up and moved into a new apartment, a new city and a new life without me there to watch her every day. Sure, she sends pictures and text messages, and we Facetime every once in a while. We still see each other for occasional family vacations and long weekends. But I have many more gaps to fill now. I can’t always see her as she gets too far on the path ahead of me. I’ve taken a few different turns lately and climbed some different hills, but for the most part I’m able to follow the great set of footsteps she’s left behind for me. I can’t say where we will both end up in the years to come, but at least I know this for certain: We’ll always be sisters, always best friends.