Sister

When she takes off her glasses, I don’t know where to look. Her eyes are large and set just wide enough apart I feel like I can’t see all of her face at the same time. She smiles and dances her head. She is full of energy, laughter constantly bubbling over, even in our serious moments where we look back at who we were, how we came to be who we are.

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I can see it, how we resemble one another, but the differences are more visible. I am serious and she appears frivolous. This is false. I am serious, but she is never frivolous. Generous, thoughtful and humorous are accurate descriptors. She is a caretaker who likes control, especially in the kitchen. She is unafraid even when afraid, ready to jump into the fire fully clothed if it seems necessary. And she is reflective, which is maybe what surprises me most even though it shouldn’t.

I ask questions and she considers, pursing her lips. Her opinions are as strong as her eyes. When she turns them on me, I am unnerved and irritated in the way of siblings when they disagree. And I often disagree.

Once, I was her champion.