To my sister,

This year on my birthday, you gave me one of the sweetest gifts I could have asked for. This won't measure up to half of that and it isn't all I'm getting you and it's only a fraction of what you deserve, but for yours I couldn't think of not returning the favor, even though it's not until tomorrow. Here goes:

Dear Jessie - hear the laughter, running through the love parade...
Until 21 years ago I was literally an only child. I spent the first 7 years of my life not sharing, getting all the toys I asked for, and generally being a brat. In the 21 years that have followed, little has changed. I'm still a brat. And I haven't been much of a big brother, preferring to let that pesky age difference be my excuse. In the last few years, piece by piece, we've gotten to know each other. I've been richer each time for the experience and am jealous of those who have gotten even more.

May the angels protect you and sadness forget you...
I remember the night you were born clearly. There was a commotion which distracted me from my TV watching - so it must have been a big deal. "The baby is ready to be born" were the simple words I heard. I still remember getting dropped in that empty waiting room, where the nurses were sweet and brought me juice and crayons to keep me busy. I don't remember seeing you that night. But I knew life had changed.

Learn to forgive me...
There's a laundry list of things I fell short on, but what comes to mind is this:
I tortured your toys a lot.
I rolled my eyes when you would talk incessantly on long car rides.
I yelled at you for doing stupid little kid stuff when I was babysitting.
I gave you crappy birthday presents.
I used to tell you various stories of your supposed adoption.
I could have been a lot more supportive than I was at times when you needed me.

I'm in love with you, you silly thing...
Despite this, you apparently still love me. A lesson not lost on me. No matter how many CDs of mine you've lost or how far away you live or how long it takes for phone tag to pay off, I love you too. It's a trip that you can drink now. It's a trip that you came out, too. It's a trip I hope isn't going to end ever.

Oh - check your mailbox exactly one month into your twenty first year. I promise - I give better gifts these days. (That's still not all I'm going to get you, either, by the way.)

Never forget who you are, Little Star...

Love,
Your big brother.

This post was sponsored by the Turn The Key Committee.