Sisters

Sisters. I have two. As the oldest child, I feel particularly protective of them. Maybe its because I have no older siblings to go to bat for me, or maybe its just because we are siblings. I love them both.

Since I am the oldest child and the span between myself and my brother is pretty big, I've had the unique experience of watching them grow up and, for the youngest two, remembering all of it.

Because of the situation surrounding our births, there is a fascinating phenomenon with the personalities of my sisters. I am very clearly the oldest, Justin is very clearly the youngest and the only boy. In the middle, though, it gets blurry. Sylvee is both the middle child and the youngest, Talia is the middle child and the oldest. So they picked up traits from each side.

Sylvee is generally the most easy going. She is like our mom, dreamy, creative, non confrontational. She will make an amazing stay at home mom, though knowing Sylvee she will start a business from home and strike it rich. She is probably the quietest of us all, and is often the one that slips through the cracks. There are times in my life that I wondered if she still lived with us, such is her way of just slipping quietly off and doing her own thing.

Talia is a firecracker wrapped in a cute little girl with freckles. She has attitude cleverly hidden up her sleeve, but always ready to crack out and bite you. I've been eagerly waiting her teenage years since she turned two, because I knew I would be out of the house and in a perfect place to observe my parents attempting to handle the whirling dervish. She is smart, driven, and passionate, like me, but where my gumption is on full display, hers is discretely wrapped in candy coating.

I can't say I ever fought with any of my siblings. I credit the age gap of the younger two and Sylvee's congeniality for that. No, I would say the thing I regret is the fact that, growing up, I ignored them. I didn't fight with them, but I didn't spend time with them either. It has been almost 4 years since I left home (time flies!) and they are all growing up without me.

Now I see my two sisters staring down at some pretty heavy duty obstacles, and my protective instinct rears its fearsome head. The truth of the matter is that I am powerless to help them. And, frankly, they don't really need my help. They have become two strong, beautiful young women and they are armed to the teeth to do battle with their trials. You can thank my parents for that, they have done a wonderful job of raising us to be strong and independent.

There is nothing in the world like a sister. I adore my baby brother, don't get me wrong, but the way I feel about him is completely different than the way I feel about my sisters.

I love them very much.