If you did not hear the voice of Rosemary Clooney singing the title line of this post, then you are dead to me (I kid). White Christmas is a classic that my sister and I enjoy watching every year during the Christmas season. Every time we watch it, my dad proclaims how my sister looks like Ms. Clooney with her big blue eyes. And my sister and I talk about procuring gigantic feathered fans and putting on a re-enactment of this scene.
But really, today I am talking about my sister. Why? Because today marks 27 years since she came into my life. I remember that fateful night for two reasons- there was snow, and I wanted a Kit-Kat. I still want a Kit-Kat.
I don't know who I'd be without my sister. I used to joke about her being brought here by aliens, and there were many years where she was alien to me (she did not like playing Barbies nearly as much as I did, and it pained me). But really, having a sister is like having a built-in friend-for-life.
As someone who has moved around a bit, especially during my younger years, I don't have any childhood friends who I am still friends with. My sister is my constant, the one who knows what I was like when I was younger, who remembers my awkward years, my fat years. Most of my friends now only know the polished gem, not the gray and jagged rock that once was. But my sister has, and through the years, our relationship has only improved.
So today I am dedicating my post to the "Wind Beneath My Wings." The girl (now woman, but that one is still hard to accept) who says what she means, whether a person wants to hear it or not. The girl who sticks up for herself, even if that means stepping on some toes. To my karaoke cohort, the Elton John to my George Michael, my "Private Dancer" (inside joke), the Hall to my Oates: Happy Birthday!
