I was born into a family which consisted on my mom and dad and sister (then 6 years old), so I have had my sister all my life. She is my blood more than any other person on Earth.
Early memories bring me back to a snowy winter, I must've been around 5, my sister 11. She let me go along with her and her friends as they traversed and traveled through hand made tunnels in the big mounds of snow, shoveled to the sides of the sidewalk. I remember distinctly going through a small tunnel, and how magical that was, the crystals glistening on the walls and ceiling. We were playing "Journey to the Center of the Earth."
In my teen years me and my sister grew ever closer, becoming confidants to each other, and hanging out, singing Beatles songs that we recorded on reel tape recorders. We learned the whole script to a Hard Day's Night, and would recite it by heart... I think I took the parts of John and George, and the Grandfather, too. I shared all my Beatlemania with her.
Through the years we have never really been apart, except for some weeks/months here and there, where she lived in New Mexico, and I lived in Finland, or traveled to California.
Being apart sucks, to tell you the truth.
We went clubbing in our 30's, even after Melissa was born, and then experienced a whole new music genre via Melissa in those hard rock/metal days. Me and Tree were always right there, all of us together.
Most times we hardly have to talk, because we come out with the same exact thing at the same time. This just doesn't happen once in awhile, but just about whenever we're together. I love it.
My sister underwent an intense open heart procedure about 5 years ago. I think it was called the Ross procedure, where they took the pulmonary valve, replaced it with a cadaver valve, and then replaced the aortic valve with the pulmonary valve. A very specialized procedure, but she had this great surgeon at Mt Sinai, who pioneered the procedure and performed it about 400 times. On top of that she had double bypass. This was a trying time, waiting for her to come out of surgery. It must've been eight hours long I think... well maybe five or six, but it seemed like forever since they took her in a 5:30 am, and we didn't get the call to come to recovery until about 5 at night. It was scary to see my sister in such a vulnerable position, with tubes and machines. She gave us the OK sign with her hand, and it was just a great relief to have it all done with. She triumphed through all this, and was so brave, above and beyond.
She was by my side when I was hospitalized for Depression back in 2003 or so, I don't remember exactly. She came to visit me every night, and kept me going while being somewhere I desperately didn't want to be.
We stick together. We are fast friends, friends forever, and of course, blood.
Today we get together as much as we can, even if that's only once a week, or every two weeks. Usually we make it part of seeing Logan that day, too.
I thank God for my sister.