Leah

Today I should be picking up my dear sister from the airport.

When I found myself heaving over the potty on Monday night, I worried that my unexpected sickness might put a damper on our time together. You see, we really got our money's worth from that fare sale. I went there, my parents went there, and now Leah was going to come here for her own few days of Mommy Vacation.

But just as quickly as that stomach bug came, it was gone. Phew!

Turns out though, that mine wasn't the only illness looming over us. Leah called the next day to say her travel plans were up in the air because Chris, her husband, was sick. For real sick too, not some fake cough he drummed up to keep her home. Antibiotics and rehydration were on their agenda but she let me know this morning that while he was improving, I wouldn't need to pick her up at the airport.

That stinks. I mean, I am sad that Chris is sick, I'm glad he's getting better, but I am sad that my sister isn't coming.

A few posts down I mentioned that I love all my siblings the same amount, just differently. Here is how I love Leah.

Leah is my closest sibling in age, 4 years my elder. Growing up, Aaron and Leah joined forces for tag-team abuse aimed at yours truly. There were many days we fought with a fever and passion. I might have left her a few notes of hatred on the mirror of our shared bathroom, penned with lipstick. Actually I know I wrote them, but now I can't remember if I ever had the guts to leave them up.

There were a few years where we were the only two kids at home. Those were the years where the fighting thinned out and the camaraderie blossomed. We shared rides and inside jokes. She left on her mission to the Dominican Republic my last year of high school. We wrote letters that year and a half. Those letters saw me through graduation and my first semester of college. Getting her letters always made me feel special, and in my opinion brought us closer than we'd ever been, even though we were farther apart than ever. She was up to date on my college dating track record, which was awful to say the least. I wrote about every ridiculous guy I came up with. And I can almost see her rolling her eyes when each one was more of a loser than the last. Until I could finally tell her about Dan. She always reminded me about what was important, and that first fall of college, I found her as a perfect confidant while I figured things out.

She came back and we lived in Provo just a few minutes apart. We both worked on campus and shared lunch most days in the office where I was a secretary. We took classes together, the most memorable probably being Anatomy, where the two of us clutched hands and willed each other through our cadaver lessons. Quite the team, we were. She'd come hang out with me when Dan worked his late hours.

And now as mothers of children about the same age, we provide the perfect listening ear or advice column for each other. I don't know what I'd do if I couldn't call Leah. It's no surprise that I get teary just writing this about her.

Through our life together she always was the epitome of the things I lacked. She was studious, she was calm, she was smart, she was logical, she was a scriptorian. Once on a vacation in Mexico, as we sat next to each other getting our hair done in a thousand tiny braids, the Mexican ladies talked about us in Spanish as if we couldn't understand. Unfortunately, we caught most of what they said; our high school Spanish serving us well. They said I was the pretty sister and she was the smart sister. Which is not hardly accurate because she's not ugly and I'm not stupid.

But I wanted to be the smart one. I wanted to be seen as a bright person with insightful thoughts as people saw her. When my heart would make me crazy I wanted to have a little more of her head. I wanted to be like her in so many ways. I wanted to be like me and like her.

That's what it is. I am missing some of the things she's got. She missing some of the things I've got (though she's certainly not hurting in the pretty department, my Mexican friends). Put us together and what does that spell?! Pretty darn great, if I say so myself.

Maybe that's why I'm so bummed she's not coming even though I have been able to see her recently. We go together, we complement and balance each other, and well frankly, our time together is just pretty darn great. Together feels better than apart.

“There’s a special kind of freedom sisters enjoy. Freedom to share innermost thoughts, to ask a favor, to show their true feelings. The freedom to simply be themselves.” -Anonymous