The Little Sister

Dear Allie,

I wonder what you would be like if you didn't have an older sister. Being the little sister is so much a part of who you are that I can't imagine you any other way.

You follow Grace wherever she goes. You look for her when she's not home, poke her when she's asleep.

‘racie? ‘ere Sissy? You asked on Sunday.

I repeated you, “Where is Sissy?”

I d'know! You squealed, eyes wide. {That's how you say I don't know. It's the cutest thing; you put your arms out and shrug your shoulders.}

I told you that she went shopping with Daddy, that she'd be back in a little while. You sighed, understanding but not pleased with my answer.

You didn't know what to do without your sister to follow, so you sat down with the iPad and watched Grace's favorite tv show, Higglytown Heroes.

I love the look on your face in this picture. You are so confident, so happy, so focused.

On Saturday, we went to a hayride/Trick or Treat/campfire thing. Grace sat down at the table to paint a pumpkin, so you climbed up into your own chair to paint your own pumpkin. I expected you to paint your clothes, your mittens, the table – and you did eventually – but you also painted your pumpkin, doing as nice a job as Grace did.

I'm amazed at the things you learn just from watching Grace. You are so smart, such a good observer.

I tried to talk you into a purple fairy costume for Halloween, but you wanted none of it. You shrieked and grabbed the pretty pink princess costume, the one identical to Grace's. You watched her wear a crown and wave a wand, and you wore a crown and waved a wand, too.

Grace has shown you how to Trick or Treat twice already this year, and you are serious about it. You grab your bag, you say Tree!, and you look for the candy.

The first time, you carried two bags the whole time. I tried to help you, to hold one, but you wouldn't have it.

MINE! you shrieked. I guess having to stake your claim is another part of being a little sister.

You aren't quite comprehending the idea that you're supposed to put your candy in the bag and move on to the next candy bowl, but that will come. On Saturday, you sat down in the gravel with your first Crunch bar, trying hard to rip it open.

It was hard for me to convince you to get up and say Tree! to the next mom.

I'm sorry that you never had one-on-one access to me and your dad. I'm sorry that you've never really had our focused attention, our exclusive doting. You've had to share everything as long as you've lived.

But if that was the case, if you were the only child, you would miss out on your favorite person in the world, the person who can make you laugh in three seconds, the person you look up to almost every minute of every day.

I wonder what you would be like if you weren't the little sister, but I'm glad you are.

You have the best gift in the whole world: a big sister who you love who loves you, a big sister who looks out for you, who saved your life, who is proud of you, who celebrates with you.

You have a big sister who will some day be your best friend.

You are the luckiest little sister on the planet, and I love you so much.

Love, Momma

© 2012 – 2018, Tara Ziegmont. All rights reserved.