I held you a million times when you were a baby. Probably more than anyone else. Maybe even more than our parents.
You were my everything. You were my best friend, my living baby doll, my favorite hobby, and my sweet little brother.
I would come straight home from school every single day and run straight to mom so I could get you from her. While you were little, I would just hold you or rock you.
When you get bigger, I would read to you or play games in the floor with you.
When you learned to walk, I would hold your hand for as long as you wanted me to.
I don’t remember when you stopped wanting me to. I just can’t seem to put a finger on the day you didn’t really need your “sissy” anymore.
I felt like your mom. I even used to get asked if I was your mom once we were both older since we look so much alike.
I guess once I was about 15 and you were 5, you just started getting on my nerves. I am forever sorry for not letting you play with me and my friends or me and our brother. I would give anything to see you toddle down the hallway and run into my room just to play.
You just started growing up. And I was growing up too. You became that annoying little brother and I was your mean teenage sister.
I went from your favorite person in the world to probably your least favorite some days. And that breaks my heart.
I’m sorry for calling you weird and making fun of you and trying to tell you what to do. I just wanted you to be “cool” at school so you wouldn’t get made fun of. I didn’t realize you were growing into a young man who had his own quirks and thoughts and friends and life.
I read your journal one day, the one we have alike, and it made me smile and laugh and cry. It made me so proud to be your sister.
But then I realized I didn’t know you at all anymore. When I was 18, you were 8, and I was in college. And by the time I graduated, you were 11 and I had missed out on a chunk of your childhood.
I wasn’t there for any more days of school or dances or games or sleepovers. I only got to make a guest appearance in your life every once in a while.
You didn’t need me every day. You didn’t miss me anymore. You didn’t call me just to talk. You grew up without me and forgot about me. And that’s ok.
I’m so happy you are growing up into a handsome, very smart young man. I watch you from a distance now. We will never live together again and before we know it, we will both be all grown up.
I forget how old you are and try to take you to the movies or watch something silly or play a game we used to play. But you aren’t a little kid anymore. You’re a teenager and I have no idea when that happened.
I want to get to know you all over again. I want to listen more and give you just a little more attention. You have a lot of life left to live and so many places to go. You have barely gotten started and I’m glad I got to be a small part in the beginning of a beautiful life.
But I hope you do remember all those days we played and laughed so hard. And all the books we read and movies we watched and even the silly fights we had. I hope you remember how much I loved you and love you and how much of my heart belongs to you.
Because of our age difference, you are like my son in some ways. But most importantly, you are forever my baby brother. I’ll always take your side and always cheer you on. I’m your biggest fan.
The one thing that comforts me when I feel so distant from my best friend is that we really are just alike. I’ve never known another person on the planet who shares so many of my interests and quirks and thoughts and dreams.
Maybe some day soon we can sit in the floor in Books-A-Million like we love to do and you can tell me all about yourself.
I barely know you anymore, but I love you more than I ever have. Thank you for giving me someone to watch and admire. Thanks for growing up into someone I’m proud to share my heart with.
To me, you’ll always be five years old running down the hallway to my room, and I hope I’ll always be the big sister that let you come play.