Happy Birthday, Lambie

Today was also my sister's 22nd birthday. Twenty two. This baby whom I once held in my arms actually said to me over long-distance tonight, "Ugh...twenty two...I'm getting old."

I said, "Louise, you know I'm thirty seven, RIGHT???" I could hear her backpedalling from here: "Oh, I'm not saying you're old, it's just, you know, I can't believe I'm 22 already."

22 already....okay, I can remember feeling that way. I remember that moment in your twenties when you realize the world is hurtling towards you at a speed you can't control. But the experience of my thirties also reminds me of the day you finally realize that the speed at which time passes isn't important. What's important is finding your own place, and your own speed, in all that goes on around you.

I know that particular moment is far in Louise's future. But I also know she'll get there, she'll have that "A-ha" moment like I had. So although we currently live in different worlds, I know someday we will exist in the same one.

And speaking of different worlds, don't forget I was 15 the day she was born, almost a "grownup" myself. She is my sister, we are on even ground.But I changed her diapers, I gave her her bottle, I watched Pee-Wee's Playhouse with her, I babysat her, I took her to McDonald's as a treat, I brushed through her long long hair for hours when lice infected her elementary school, I read her bedtime stories, and I kissed her goodnight. She may be my sister, but she was also my first baby.

Love to you, Lambie.