Dear Lily
An open letter to my little sister.
Story by Makenna Marks
Dear Lily,
Remember when we were kids and Dad built the trampoline in the backyard? Remember learning how to do a front flip, and trying to bounce each other so high we’d almost fly over the net?
Mom and Dad told me to be careful so you didn’t get hurt.
I loved being a big sister.
Remember when we were little and we’d hear the ice cream man drive through our neighborhood? We would beg Mom and Dad for $5 and then sprint barefoot down the long, gravel driveway.
Mom and Dad told me to hold your hand while we crossed the street.
“Take care of your sister,” they said. They didn’t worry about me like they worried about you.
You were smaller than me, but you always kept up. The ice cream distracted us from the cuts on our feet.
Remember when we were in middle school together? I was an eighth grader and you were a sixth grader. We giggled and waved at each other in the halls. The teachers recognized you because you looked like me.
Mom and Dad told me to look out for you.
Did they ever tell you to look out for me?
I told my friends how cool you were, even when you wore your Harry Potter t-shirt and forgot to brush your hair.
Remember when I finally got my driver’s license? I was in charge of getting us to the mall while you were in charge of the music. I’m not embarrassed to say I still jam out to “Tell Me I’m a Wreck” by Every Avenue. That song goes hard.
Mom and Dad told me to drive safe. I never got us in an accident. I never even got us pulled over.
When you were 16 you crashed your new car, but Mom and Dad got you another. I still drive that light blue, 2007 Toyota Highlander. It has 200,000 miles on it now.
Remember when we were teenagers and you would sneak into my room and steal my clothes? Sometimes I’d yell at you; sometimes I would pretend I didn’t notice you were wearing my favorite t-shirt.
Mom and Dad told me to let it go. I resented you, so I started raiding your closet too.
Remember when we hated each other in high school? I got you in trouble with Mom and Dad and they grounded you for months. You talked behind my back at school to my peers so I never got invited to any of the parties.
Mom and Dad told me to forgive you. Did they tell you to forgive me, too?
I was tired of setting the standard for you. I was tired of being your big sister.
Remember when I moved into my college dorm? You didn’t come say goodbye. You told me you were happier at home now that I was gone. I told you I hated you.
I don’t think Mom and Dad knew we hated each other so much.
Remember when we forgot how much we hated each other? It turns out that sibling relationships are some of the most enduring connections we make in our lives. It felt good to be your big sister again.
Mom and Dad were happy we were talking again.
“Tell your sister you love her,” they said. Now I tell you all the time.
Remember when you joined the Air Force? I cried in the car on the way home after you left for basic training.
Mom and Dad told me I could write you letters. I missed talking to you every day.
Remember when you came home for Christmas last year? I was so happy to pick you up at the airport, even though driving in the city makes me anxious. I was in charge of getting us home while you were in charge of the music. We stopped at Starbucks. Obviously.
Mom and Dad thanked me for getting you home safe.
Christmas quickly became my new favorite holiday.
Remember when you had to leave again, only two weeks later? Mom and Dad cried when we dropped you off at the airport.
I love that we’re best friends again, even though you’re 2,000 miles and another time zone away.
Now, we don’t get to jump on the trampoline together or run barefoot after the ice cream man. We don’t get to secretly raid each other’s closets or jam out to Every Avenue in the car even when we’re fighting.
Instead, we FaceTime every night. I love when you call me in the middle of the day panicking because you can’t figure out how to cook a grilled cheese sandwich without burning it. I love when you ask for my advice, even though you hardly ever follow it.
I love being your big sister.
Love,
Makenna