Think & Thinkibility: Baby Bestie

A younger guy at my new job snatched up a seat next to me before a meeting and struck up a friendly conversation. “Tell me about your family.” He inquired with interest. I expounded with brevity upon my older brothers, and figured that’s where he would be interested, when he politely interrupted and said, “Now, what about your sister?” he leaned in and smiled broadly. My stomach flipped. It has begun. I am a source file and portal for interested parties of masculine interest...interest in my baby sister. They have no idea who they are asking. My mother bear mental state was masked by a polite smile and a low-fat warning question.
“Do you know how old she is?"
“Seventeen?”
“Thir-teen.” I responded with intensity.
He sat back in his seat with a slack jaw. Then we talked about other things.

Her current view of guys is here summarized
in her unsavory expression on the left.

Getting old happens to the best of us—and the very worst of us—all the while we stay the same inside in so many ways. I am learning that I am approaching this aged status with an annual regularity. (Stating the obvious occasionally is only one of many symptoms.) Before I hear the booing and hissing about my aging state, let me explain. This is how I know.

• People ask if the girls I have along with me for coffee chats or job assistants “are yours.”

• My business card is suddenly acceptable, when before it was somehow amusing.

• Teenage boys ask me girl advice and I encourage them to stick with finishing college.

• I approach a group of little people playing, they fall quiet, and I cannot join without receiving strange looks—from them.

• No one asks anymore, “So how do you know that?” when you know it the same way they do.

• Older people have begun to tell me that the longer I wait to bear children the more difficult it will be to do so.

• My advice is requested, chargeable, and taxable.

• Teenage girls may blush if they say “the wrong thing” while we are chatting.

• No one asks about school anymore, upon introduction.

• People assume I am in a relationship

• I actually need the eye cream I’ve been using since a young teen...

• My baby sister is turning fourteen today.

• My parents stop asking if I locked the front door—the one I always lock.

The last bullet point has not happened yet, however much my parents may trust me with their finances, vehicles, food, and lives. This, despite other facts, will be my insurance to render me forever young while they yet live. But, my sister turning fourteen today, is beyond impossible.

Out to lunch with my lovely sis
on the Port Townsend waterfront.

I was eight years old and eager. My momma had been pregnant before as I recalled, but I had never had a little sibling to have and hold. I prayed for a sister every day for as long as everyone could remember. My deepest heart’s desire was for a sister to share every joy, sorrow, laugh, thought, and even—my clothes. I dreamed of taking her shopping, eating out together, finding cute stuff, hitting each other and finding it hilarious, merciless teasing, and sharing a bedroom. I figured it was impossible, since I was eight, even if she came along now, she would be excessively young when I was markedly old. We would be eons apart and never have that sort of friend relationship.

Then, she came. My dad called from the hospital, telling me she was “squatty” and “a girl” and I laughed until I could not breathe. My brothers and I collapsed in a carpeted upstairs hallway…and literally bounced off the walls rolling and laughing for joy. It was April 30th.

Even cats adore her. Now that's something.

Much happened since then: she almost died, I have almost died. But here we are and I know now that I have the best of all worlds in her lovable person. I have raised her and fed her, held her and babied her and get to remember it all since I was much older. And now as a teen, she’s my best friend and yet still my baby.

Seriously. It IS funny.
You don't get it?

We now laugh together in carpeted hallways until we can’t breathe, but often it is about nothing anyone could possibly comprehend. But the most recent humor stems from the fact that we still physically view each other as ages apart, but people looking in see two young ladies and think we are both around 20. When we hold hands frequently, she lays on top of me, or I snap my fingers for obedience, onlookers may find it rather awkward. I didn’t realize this until I became the source file among males for her availability status. (For the record, she will NOT be available, indefinitely: like for a period of time that extends past your interest’s expiration. Thank you.)

So the best of all worlds is mine. I have raised a baby sibling, and now I have a live-in bestie. She is my self-assigned relational coach, now gives me fashion advice, thankfully outgrown everything I have, loves Jesus too, and makes me forever young. I am beyond grateful for my sweet sister on this: her fourteenth birthday.