To my baby sister
CHAPTER 11
To my baby sister…
Yes, you are crazy and you drive me crazy. I feel responsible for you, I worry about you and I’m scared for you. I’m worried that you could experience everything bad I have felt. I’m worried that you won’t always be sweet and innocent and I’m scared of what experience will make you realize that the world isn’t all that nice. I constantly worry about the things that could happen to you. I want you to live in a perfect world; although, I know we don’t live in one. I get mad at myself of how aware I am of the horrors that occur on this planet and I fear that you see this in me. I hope that you notice the beauty, I hope that I have shown and taught you beauty and joy and that you’ve experienced the kindness of others. I worry that you’ll hurt like me. I pray that you don’t think of me as a sad unhappy person. I love your bear hugs, I love your crazy unruly hair and I love when you prove me wrong. I love that sometimes you still need me, I love that when you can’t sleep I pet your head like I did when you were a baby. I love how much you move in your sleep, it makes me laugh when you squeeze my arm too tight and I can’t feel it. The way you act when you think you’re keeping a secret or how proud you are when you prove me wrong makes me love you even more. You are going to do great things. I know that life is rough right now and that a lot is changing, that you’re getting older; in moments like this I’d love to tell you that it all gets better and will work out. However, that implies that everything is just going to fall into place, but for that to happen you have to will that into existence and you have to work for it to come to life. Acknowledge that change is happening, realize that it’s ok and move through it. As I’ve watched you grow up it’s been hard for me to accept that you are turning into a young woman. From a far I see that you have all the qualities to be a great friend, adversary, boss and woman in the future. However, at this moment in time I worry that you’re losing yourself to this cruel period of life we are in. We argue a lot, and I believe that the root of the problem is that you see shame in asking for help. I get mad at you because I want to help you, I want you to ask me for help. I hope that you gain the strength to ask someone for help.
One of the many who love you,
The one who pets your head at night