Sunday was my sister's birthday. I still haven't sent a card, because adulting is hard. I did remember I ordered a part of her gift; it's just not here yet. So maybe I'm not a complete failure.
I love my sister dearly. I used to wonder how two people raised by the same parents in the same household could be so different. Then I discovered the temperaments. I'm melancholic choleric and she's phlegmatic sanguine (I think).
She's spontaneous. I'm organized. She dresses cute and trendy. I wear jeans and a solid-colored t-shirt most days. She's a school counselor. I worked with spreadsheets. You get the idea.
Despite our differences, we've mostly gotten along, save those couple of teenage years when we were both living at home. She's been generous to me with her time and advice and her kids' old stuff. I'm endlessly grateful for her and I sometimes pity women who don't have a sister. It's a special thing, sisterhood.
I had intended to write something a little more heartfelt, but were sick here I can't get the toddler to to sleep. I've been interrupted by him 8 million times so I best go deal with it. I love you, Nara!