twins, but not really
On October 12, 1992, my younger sister was born. I was 15 months old, so I don't have any memory of it. I don't have many memories growing up that don't involve my sister Carrie. After all, we were only a year apart (except for the three months between July and October when I'd rub it in her face that I was actually TWO years older). I thought I'd share a little bit about our relationship, especially for those who don't know me too well, because I'll be writing a lot about my sister in the coming blog posts.
Anyone born in the 80s or early 90s knows about the Olsen twins. They were a cultural reset. Carrie and I loved watching the Adventures of Mary Kate & Ashley with our older sister, Meg, Naturally so, we had always wished we were twins. Nothing seemed cooler. I'll never forget the time we picked out the same indoor soccer shoes at the Adidas tent sale because we had decided that we were twins and for some reason, matching shoes was the missing puzzle piece.
We laced up our new shoes with the classic three stripes and tagged along with our dad to our brother's soccer practice at Silverlake park. While playing on the Jungle Jim, we had convinced some stranger kid that we were twins. Apparently, the adrenaline rush of lying about being twins wasn't enough and we proceeded to tell the kid we also had our licenses and drove to the park ourselves (keep in mind, we were like 10 years old). That totally blew our cover.
a built-in best friend
I'm blessed to have grown up with three siblings. I'm even more blessed to have grown up with a sibling that was basically the same age. Making friends as a kid can be hard, and I certainly wasn't the exception. I was interested in things like gymnastics and diving. I cared more about the halftime cheerleader performances at St. Henry basketball games than the actual basketball. I made up cheer routines in the front yard while my brother and the neighborhood guys played basketball in the driveway. I didn't have a lot of guy friends in middle school, so naturally I didn't go to many sleepovers until I got older. If a neighborhood kid ever made a gay joke toward me, she would be the first to tell them to get lost. She was always one step behind me at all times like a shadow.
Thankfully, I had Carrie. We were lovingly called tweedle dee and tweedle dum. Carrie always accepted me for who I was. Because we were so close in age, we often didn't have a choice when it came to supporting each other's extracurricular endeavors. We were too young to stay home alone, so weekends were spent in the backseat of mom's Honda Odyssey or dad's Honda CRV driving all across the tri-state for soccer games, basketball games, volleyball matches, gymnastics meets, diving meets and more. She certainly sat through her fair share of gymnastics practices and meets, and I have seen her serve a volleyball more than any other person on the planet.
She was a built-in best friend. Every sibling gets in petty fights and we had our fair share of arguments. The special thing about my relationship with Carrie was that we could go from Carrie slapping my sunburn and leaving a hand shaped welt on my back (true story, it's cool I've forgiven her LOL) to "Wanna go get food?" in a matter of seconds. When I think of childhood nostalgia, I don't really think of the TV shows and movies we watched as kids. I think of the weekend sleepovers in each other's rooms even though we shared a wall (we'd literally sleep in sleeping bags on each other's floors), 2 a.m. trips to Walmart when we could drive, days at Triple EEE swim club, cooking up some pizza rolls while turning on That's So Raven after the bus ride home from school, and the list goes on.
growing up
I think a lot of siblings don't necessarily realize how close they are until they move apart from each other. Carrie and I didn't really call ourselves "best friends" until we got older. In fact, had you asked us as kids, I probably would have given the typical sibling response of "best friends? no way. I can't stand her!" When she moved away to college, she posted on my Facebook wall that she "missed her best friend" and couldn't wait to come home for fall break and see me. I remember thinking: "best friend? Whaaat? Okay, Carrie." But, the feeling was mutual.
College is a bittersweet time in your life, especially with siblings. You go from seeing each other every day, to holidays and breaks. When she finished college, she moved back home, but I stayed a few hours away from Northern Kentucky. If she knew I was driving home for a visit, she'd always say "COME OVER!!" no matter how late it was. I wish I had taken her up on that offer a few more times than I did.
We got engaged in the same year and married in the same year. Oddly enough, our husbands had the same last name. Even more odd but unrelated, both of our husbands' dads have the same name! Anyway, back on track. I'm so thankful for that wedding period. Planning a wedding at the same time as my sister was fun. We would bounce ideas off each other, talk about our big days, and empathize with each other about the craziness and stress that comes along with planning a wedding. Our weddings are my last favorite memories we have together. SO much fun and dancing! (see above picture).
processing loss
As I mentioned in my first blog post, writing has become an outlet for me. Processing out loud alone feels a little odd, but writing feels just right. When you lose someone so close, especially a sister, there's a lot of moments where your brain just keeps spinning and doesn't stop. The day after my sister passed away, I received some helpful advice from a former student of mine who recently lost a parent: write it all down. Write everything down.
I get it now. Our brain can only store so much, and especially during such a traumatic event. I don't want to forget it. Some day, I may archive all these posts or delete the blog, but for now it seems to be helping me. Something that I've come to despise about social media is how outwardly unrealistic and fake it all is. I'm very guilty of this (just ask my husband who's had to take 30 shots of me doing something that looks candid just for the best insta post LOL). But I can't just fake it anymore. This blog gives me a place to share my thoughts with the world.
You may be wondering: why put it all out there on the internet? And my response is two things: 1. I'm certainly not putting everything on the internet. There are very private and excruciating moments of grief that I probably won't ever share here, and 2. Because grief is a part of who I am. It will be for the rest of my life. And if this blog helps even one person recognize that it's okay to talk about it, then it's worth it.