Appreciating a sister

Ford Pinto. Careening over the undulations on 16th St. Open Sunroof.Amy and I stand, arms up, through the roof. The Pinto gas tank was explosive, so why bother with seat belts? The driver’s name?? I’ll never tell.


A thousand moments live in my rear-view mirror with Amy. Beach days. Horse rides. Trips to Kingsburg, Canada, SLO. Dodger games. Choir practice. Kick-the-can. It all feels like a blur.

The details disappear and dates escape detection. Like a childhood wound, the shape of the memories fade around the edges. But still the scar remains. Amy, my sister, has left her mark.

Amy’s schooled me in more than surviving 8th grade.She’s taught me to be present, To show up in good times and bad. To love. Regardless.

She’s impressed me with her wisdom, love, and loyalty. Her strength is a sight to behold. No one I know works harder than Amy. No.One.

I should have enjoyed Amy more when she lived down the hall And not on top of a So Cal mountain. The worst thing about having a great childhood Is how much you miss it when it’s passed.


And so, again, I learn another lesson from Amy: Enjoy your siblings while you are still sharing a bathroom. Don’t pick fights about who is washing dishes and who is clearing the table. Spend less time pouting in your room and more time by the pool.

Because in life, very little beats hanging by the pool with your sister.

Happy, Happy Birthday, sweet sister and friend of mine!