In a little under 2 weeks one of my sisters is getting married.
I couldn’t be happier for her if I tried.
She is a mix of softness and strength, of serious and fun of smart and silly.
She is older than me by 2 years.
Growing up I always adored her, secretly envied and not so secretly copied her. There were many times I wished I was her.
She was as athletic as she was academic. Good at everything she ever did.
I used to pretend her bedroom was mine. Hers was so much cooler. She had surfing pictures and tiger pictures and marine life posters.
We used to go to the same parties in high school. I loved it when people would ask “Are you Amanda’s sister?”
She was never embarrassed by me, she was never awful to me. She used to drive me to school, and drive me to friends houses.
She has never wanted me to be anyone but who I am. She has never made me feel like I need to change in anyway. She has seen the good in me when I couldn’t see it myself.
She was my maid of honour and cried during her speech at my wedding.
She felt the loss of each of my babies and she cried for them. She even named them and created a beautiful garden for them in her heart.
She has supported me, lifted me up and encouraged me.
She has a sweet relationship with my daughter. She listens to and laughs with her. They dance, and sing and play and cuddle and jump and braid hair.
She gives all of herself to the ones she loves.
She is strong and brave and kind and giving.
She is sunlight.
She is my sister.
A little Ray 