Thursday, July 2, 2009

Blood is thick

3:42 PM

I remember once in high school, back when I was truly enigmatic, a friend of mine walked me home on a cool autumn day. He asked me if there was anyone who truly understood me (it was, of course, a deep and meaningful high school conversation that dealt with life's real issues as we struggled to define ourselves amongst our peers and our angst). I answered "Jesus. Maybe my sister. That's it." While I have grown and changed (I especially like the quote "A woman is meant to be loved, not understood" - Oscar Wilde, because it expresses my growing understanding so nicely), and in my maturity I've shed some of my mystery (I think), I don't think I had even begun to comprehend the tiniest part of how great my sister is. She is really, really great. And I know she loves me, even if she doesn't always understand me. Thanks, sister (I'm going to refer to you as Irma from here on out, because it's kind of a silly name [my apologies to anyone who has an Irma that is dear to their heart] and it's also Portuguese for "sister," except that in Portuguese there is that little worm above the "a" that makes it nasal and totally different, but you still get the idea). Thanks.


Andrea said...

Ok, so this little moment was probably the most I've laughed in a month. Hooo-Ray!

You're the bestest. Love you, hermanacita!