sisters

Yesterday, my little sister turned 9.

I remember the day she was born.

She has the cutest smile and the soprano voice of a child prodigy. She's super sweet and perfectly sensitive. And her giggle... I probably love it so much because it reminds me of my own.

But I love her more than I ever thought I could.

See, between her and I are five... yes, f i v e, strapping young men. From the time I was old enough to truly have an opinion, I wanted a sister. There weren't any girls my age in the neighborhood, and oh, how I longed for a kindred spirit, the giggles and the companionship of a sister.

But she didn't come. Instead, I became "one of the boys". I would go to scout activities with my brothers and a few neighbor boys. I would play basketball and baseball with the boys. I still giggled like a little girl, but none of them would giggle back.

In all honesty, I loved it. I loved being accepted by the boys and I loved playing their games. Dolls weren't my favorite. I liked legos and lightsabers. And I can't accurately portray the fun I had. Even older boys in the neighborhood would come and play with my brother Austin and I. And even then, I was a bossy little prince(ss).

But through it all, I still longed for a sister. A girl to share secrets with. Austin and Taylor weren't great at sharing secrets. But no sister came. It seems like I was constantly praying for a sister, making silly promises like "I will help mom do the dishes every day" or "I won't throw walnuts at Chase anymore" if I could only get a sister.

When Austin was born my mom had a dream of a little girl named Brindy. Brindy Marie. And that name stuck with her. And with each child that was born, the hope of a little girl named Brindy consumed my thoughts.

First Austin. Then Taylor. Bryson was born two years later. And two years after that, Mom was about to have another baby. She wasn't big on finding out the baby's gender when she was pregnant, so it was always a surprise when the new sibling finally came. This time, we were staying at Grandma and Gramps' house (the house Branson and I now live in). Grandma came upstairs on September Eleventh and told me that there was a phone call for me.

I ran downstairs and picked up the phone, jumping with excitement. I knew what this phone call was all about - I was now the oldest of five children. Its was Dad: "Hey Shan," I remember interrupting him. "Is it Brindy?" "No, Shan you have a new baby brother named Tanner!"

And that's when I gave up. Four brothers? No one bounces back from that. I resigned myself to being the only girl forever. But I didn't let it get me down. And I was excited about Tanner. He was a cute baby and I was old enough and big enough to hold him on my own. And oh, how I love holding babies! One day, while holding my newest baby brother, I decided to look on the bright side: I was the only girl. I didn't have to share any of my clothes. I didn't have to share a bed with anyone. People who met our family always remember my name, while they fumbled on the boys' names. It was going to be great to be the only girl. And I reveled in it.

My reveling continued. A month after Tanner's second birthday, my baby brother Braden was brought home from the hospital in a blue and white blanket. And Dad came home with blue bubblegum cigars.

It was official - I was the oldest and only girl with five younger brothers.

I learned early on to get along with my brothers pretty well. I made Taylor cry once in Disneyland because I stole his camera - But what was I supposed to do? My camera was full, and he was taking pictures of his nose. And so, as the oldest and only girl, I had every right to take that camera. Taylor collapsed on the ground right before Aladdin's float passed by. Ironically enough, I was spit on by a camel. Needless to say, Taylor felt a little bit better.

We would play games together. There was 6 of us. Perfect for splitting into teams. Obviously, my team always won. I was the oldest and only girl. I couldn't lose.

Before I knew it, Mom let me in on a secret: she was going to have another baby. I was a freshman in high school... and I really did think it was cool to have a brand new baby in my family. I was the neighborhoods best (and only) babysitter for quite a few years and due to my extensive background in child-rearing assistance, I was in high demand. And I got really good at diaper changes and bottle feedings and getting kids to clean up their toys.

I was going to have another brother. I was convinced. And I was excited. In fact, I helped my mom come up with names for my new brother. I had my top three names picked out and was ready for my parents to pick one. I helped clean the house and take care of the kids when Mom and Dad left for the hospital. The phone rang and I ran and answered. As the oldest and only girl, I reserved the right for the first phone call from the hospital when a new baby was born.

I answered the phone and was informed by my parents that I was a big sister for the 6th time. And I waited anxiously for my parents to tell me his name. Nathan... Just say it, Dad. Baby Nathan. "Shan, you have a sister."

I honestly thought he was joking. "Come on, Daddy. What's his name? I know its a boy."

I could hear my mom in the background, "Shanna, you have a baby sister named Brindy."

I was shocked. I didn't know what to say... It took me literally a minute to gather my thoughts and fully understand what I had just heard. But after that minute passed, it hit me: I had a sister. I wasn't the only girl. I had a baby sister. And her name was Brindy Marie.

Instantly, I was filled with joy. Happiness took over the feelings of shock and surprise and I couldn't contain my excitement. I jumped up and down a million times. I did cartwheels in the front room. My brothers and I created a moshpit essentially - we jumped up and down together for probably hours.

When she came home, I couldn't leave her alone. All I wanted to do was hold her and love her. For the first time in my life, I liked the color pink and I couldn't get enough of it. I had a sister. Although there was a decade and a half between us, I had a sister. And I couldn't love her more. She couldn't talk yet, but she was great at keeping secrets. I spent hours and hours with her. I begged my parents to let me stay home from school and just love Brindy all day long. I knew we would be best friends our whole lives.

A few years passed, and Brindy had become my little copy cat. She loved me almost more than I loved her. If she was upset, I could always make her feel better. There were even times she would come to me before my mom. I loved her loving me.

I remember one night, sleeping in my brand new, very own room downstairs in our recently remodeled basement. It was well past midnight and I heard a tapping sound on my door. The doornob was jiggling, but wasn't quite opening. I heard a little whimper and got up to open the door. Brindy had crawled down the stairs and gotten to my door, only to find it closed. And not being tall enough to successfully get the door open, her night was even worse. You see, Brindy had a bad dream. And instead of walking down the hall 20 feet to my parents room, she braved the stairs to come sleep with me. We were sisters. And she knew I wouldn't let anything bad happen to her.

A year later, my mom found Brindy in the bathroom in front of the mirror cutting her own hair. She had seen me do it, and wanted her hair to look like mine. She cut her own bangs. Jagged and crooked as I'll get out, I couldn't help but love it. This little girl loved me and wanted to be like me. I was flattered.

Brindy and I both grew, still are. I'm in awe that she's 9 years old. Time has flown by so quickly. But as time has passed, my love for her has grown deeper. And my memories with her are overflowing.
Yesterday, we played games for hours. Tonight we sang songs by Ben Folds; Me on the keys and brindy belting out the melody. We make a great team. She has a similar sense of humor to mine and we like to giggle together. (And with Pie Face too, but she's another story for another day.)

I love her and am so grateful for her. She is a great sister. I can't wait until she's old enough to share clothes with me and tell me about her dating dramas. I'm so excited for her to grow up. I can't wait to see the choices she makes and the paths she will take in her life. I can't wait until her wedding. I am excited to be moms together, swapping kids and having play dates. But I don't wish time to pass any faster for her. I hope she enjoys her childhood every bit as much as I enjoyed mine.

I hope she does well in school, and makes good decisions. I hope she finds wonderful friends that she'll keep her whole life. I hope she never forgets how much I love her, and the bond that we have as sisters.

So, Brindle-Frindle, happy birthday.
I love you. Schmuv you.

Love,
Shan