BEING A SISTER: A GRADUATION STORY

Big Sis & Little Sis, originally uploaded by J.DoyonPhotography.

It was 1998. At 16, I was dancing between the identity of the drama nerd, school council activist and cheerleader. However, there was one identity that everyone knew about me--and it was my favorite one--I was a sister. I will always be a sister to two amazing ladies.

That spring afternoon, an eclectic collection of my six closest friends and I sat in tiny plastic chairs in a room that smelled of glue, play doh and little kid. Most of the friends with me that day weren't even really friends with each other; they were united by their love of me (I am very lucky) and a certain curly haired blond girl who peeked out from the hallway to get a glimpse of us.

We are 11 years apart, but were inseparable for most of my high school years. During the week, my sis went everywhere I went--dinner with friends, out for ice cream, to the park---you name it, she was there, her little hand in mine.

That day, we watched her graduate from kindergarten. My mom had to be out of town for work, and my dad didn't know if he could swing being there with his work schedule, so my friends came out in droves. As she adjusted her tassle on that tiny hat, no one had a bigger cheering squad than my sister.

It is a moment in my rites of passage that is just as distinct as my prom or when the envelope came in the mail saying I had gotten in to my first choice of college. As I pick her up to give her a congratulatory hug, I remember wanting to freeze the moment to encase her in a cocoon of blissful innocence. She didn't know yet what it would be like to fight with our parents and realize they are human, or have a boy break her heart, or face the crushing failure of disappointment when she makes a mistake. My heart was heavy as I realized she would have to go through all of those things, and the big sister in me couldn't protect her. All I could do was pick her up when she needed me.

It is now 2011 and I am a certified grown up, but with the heart of a teenage girl. In a few weeks, my family and I will sit side-by-side and watch the youngest one in our family walk across the auditorium of her high school and passage through another graduation; this time it's the big one. After she throws her hat in the air and comes over to give us all hugs, I will feel that same pride that I felt in that ABC decorated classroom so long ago. Also, I know that worries of everything we can't protect her from in this next phase of life will flash through my brain. While the world was spinning, our family's little girl grew up. Like always, I will remind myself that whenever she needs me, I will always be there to pick her up.