She's a Dogwood

I loved kindergarten.

Mostly I loved my teacher who was pregnant and also had an incubator by which we got to hatch chicks. Score.

Still, for some reason, life seemed so much harder around the corner from preschool. And some days-- just a few times-- I needed my sister. On a handful of occasions (so rare I don't really remember an isolated incident) I trekked on up to the 3rd grade and got to interrupt class to say hello.

She knew me. A hug from the big sister was enough to renew my resolve to be the best kindergartner I could be. Mostly because whatever she did, she was doing all she could to be her best. I used her toothpaste for magic potions, stole perfume from her room and talked her ear off at least once a day. But when I saw her at school-- specifically when I sought her out-- she never disowned me.

At Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Elementary Interdistrict Magnet School she was my irreplaceable big sister. It seems she's always known on some level or another how much power she has to affect my mood, mind and level of confidence. She very rarely took advantage of that ability (even when I disrespected her property) and rose to occasion when I needed her most. Maybe it's not surprising, then, that I don't remember the specific issues or emotions that drove me to seek her embrace. I only know that she gave it to me.

In all of the pestering, I fear I forgot to tell her just how much that meant. She must've caught on anyway.

It's officially April in Fred Vegas. As we drove the town going to and fro, Emily made mention of the early-blooming Dogwoods. They stand in beautiful contrast to the rest of the trees.

We did a lot in five days. We did dinner with the Modly girls, 5 Alive and lots of Freedom-ridery things. I got to introduce her in class and we introduced "All That" to Claire. We got snacks with Deirdre and milkshakes with Meredith and did a movie with Katie Jones and conversed at La Petite with Dina. We ate too much chocolate with Jill and ate Chipotle on campus walk as college passed by (and I passed out buttons).

We pondered things. We had fun. We hugged.

And over and over again I looked to her and said, "Hey, you're here!" Because, friends, I don't know what I did to get to be the girl with a sister who uses her power to affect things so effectively-- who would make a trip to encourage me and take deeper interest in my life. And in taking interest in my life, wanting to encourage the people around this place who make me who I am.

A visit from her is enough to renew my resolve to be the best college student I can be...just like the kindergarten days. She is my sister-- one who stands in beautiful contrast amongst the rest.

And I love her.

(she saved me from this)

(I'm a lot more corners from preschool these days) (you might not be able to tell) (but she still came all the way to see me) (i'm failing at my goal to consolidate parenthetical content)

To quote Katie Jones, "here's a song!"

Help Me Be

When it's near, I like to see it illuminate my periphery.

I don't hate everything about a phone.

There are so many possibilities. Someone may be saying hello, or asking a question or making me laugh. When I get to my phone after a period of absence (which is usually more often than not), I still anticipate that possibility. So much so that I click the little button below the screen-- my own little "let there be light" moment.

When there are no new messages, I can't help but hear friends of freshman year mock their only slight feeling of rejection by exclaiming "no friends!"

When she texts me, I get especially excited. She knows me. Watched me grow from the only slight distance of three years ahead. Watched as my strengths and weaknesses grew to adult size. Bearing with each other, we learned to deal with commonalities and differences like the adults we were becoming. Some days with envy, others with embrace, we each day inadvertently learned more about the other. With that privileged information, Emily and I had a choice. Attack, insult, accuse or encourage, uplift, and counsel.

She listens with grace and understanding, creating a safe place for me to speak honestly and passionately. Then she speaks truth and love right back.

In times of peace, she texts me that I'm missed, sends me lyrics or random things that make her think of me. And even though I can be terrible at responding, she continues to do so.

In the times my heart is troubled, she gets even better. For while she knows me at my happiest, she also understands what makes me saddest. She knows that when I get low-- as I had been this week-- it sometimes just takes an illuminated screen.

In the limited amount of space a text allows, she speaks truth. Because she knows me, the faults and upshots, she won't just let me be.

"John study, day 33 is for you right now. 'In the dead of the night when insecurities crawl on us like fleas, all of us have terrifying bouts of insecurity and panics of insignificance. Our human natures fall pitifully to the temptation at times to pull out the tape measure and gauge ourselves against people who seem far more gifted and anointed by God... one way we have to respond is by choosing to believe what we know rather than what we feel... the answers God is willing to give us in our tomorrows often flow from our faithfulness when we have none today.' -Beth Moore"

She helps me be.

Look Out Vancouver

Here comes the next best thing.

Not like second to best.

Like up and coming.

Providing a fresh face for amateur skating, I proudly present Emily and her debut skating lesson (since the 6th grade).

I guess I'm going to be that mom. The one all up in the way with the camera out all the time, waiting on the child to do some trick.

But for now I'm that sister.

You'll excuse me while I go book my flight to Canada, won't you?

Oh and also, you heard it here first, these little kids are the future of pair skating. I would know, given that I basically watched them during the entirety of Em's lesson my youtube experience and complete credentials as a scout.

I know, I know, "stalk much?"

I'm merely looking out for Vancouver...

You Know What I Like About You?

the quote should end like this: "e'rything."

But I don't want to sugarcoat it.

Let's face it, I don't like everything about Emily. Or she, me.

Like the other night (when she was here... how cool is that?) I said something along the lines of "you know what song really bugs Emily?" and proceeded to play it.

Emily's comedic response gives pretty accurate insight into our history. "See, this is why we had issues growing up. 'What would annoy Emily most? I know, I'll do that thing!'"

Such was (and apparently still is a little bit) our life.

Similarly, when I picked Emily up around 5 last Monday she asked "what are we doing for dinner?"

As I drove in a direction I was not completely confident about I responded, "something with Noelle. She's going to call me to tell me where she is and then we'll make a plan."

Emily looks at me with such perplexity. "You think we should do that soon?"

It's not like we were driving aimlessly. But 'cept for we kind of were. Emily made gestures in front of her face to indicate some sort of inner calming. "Whooo, we are not the same. You do not think like I do." It was more a reminder for herself than a reprimand of me. I appreciate that.

So I won't sugarcoat it.

Mostly because I think what we do have is pretty sweet sans the pretty pink frosting. Besides, what I like about her will forever outweigh what I don't.

I can't lie, though, what I don't like didn't really ever show up last week. It was just so much fun. Good, soul deep fun. The kind that, for me, is specific to our sisterhood. I mean I have fun in a lot of different ways with a lot of different people.

At my apartment with friends.

At Caribou with friends.

At the apartment with friends (again).

At La Petite Maison Blanche

At the skating rink.

But there is something about having Emily here that enhances each of these things. Watch:

Something about being us. Something about getting to be me. In a way that I'm not without her. In a way that bonds us.

Even if it's just on a rainy day watching Felicity. It may not seem groundbreaking, but it means so much to me that she'd fly 1000 miles to do so with me.

To buy me school paraphernalia.

To buy me dinner.

To get to know my friends.

To look up maps of my current little town.

To do work with me.

To care about me.

I like that about her. It's not all that I like, and I may not like every thing. But sometimes having her for a sister just means e'rything to me.

Not just because she cares about me. But because she is so caring.

It makes her an excellent friend. Daughter. Student. Doctor-to-be. Worshipper. And for me, Sister.

That is what I like about her.

Now the body is not made up of one part but of many. If the foot should say, "Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body," it would not for that reason cease to be part of the body. And if the ear should say, "Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body," it would not for that reason cease to be part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would the sense of hearing be? If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be? But in fact God has arranged the parts in the body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be. If they were all one part, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, but one body.

- I Corinthians 12:14-20

It is a pleasure to call you flesh and blood, baby!