The Day after April's Fool.

Today is my sister’s birthday. HAPPY BIRTHDAY BIG SISTER!

Her blog name is Kermit, as you might have seen her comment on my first post here. She is the middle of three sisters, being four years younger than one, and six years older than the other, being me.

Ever since Kermit started her blog, she’s been wonderful enough to write up beautiful posts about her sisters on their birthdays. So I decided to give it a try, just to show how much I love my middle sister. Sadly, there won’t be any art in this post, as I hadn’t prepared anything and I realized that any of the sketch books I used that had any art pertaining to my sister are currently in storage. That’s a place I don’t plan on returning to until I’m ready to add more boxes to it, or am ready to weed more crap out of it.

ANYWAYS! Let’s try to keep on track today!

For as long as I could remember during my early youth, Kermit was always there for me. She would play doll house and Ewoks with me, along with some random video games we had for the Commodore 64. She taught me how to make my bed, wash my laundry, brush my teeth, wash my hair, vacuum, dust…a lot. Kermit was more like a mother to me at random points of my life. When Dad was away for work during the week days, I went to my sister for help with my homework. She encouraged my drawings, much like she’s doing now with her own daughter.

And Kermit wasn’t that bad at drawing herself. I’d scan it if I had it here now, but since I don’t, then I won’t; but she drew in one of my first sketch books a picture of a little blonde girl in a blue dress, along with a little story of a brown haired girl in a green dress who went off to find her father. At least, I think that’s how it went. Without it in front me, I’m afraid I can’t remember too well. I just know that I would try so hard to mimic her pictures, because I wanted so much to be like her. I wanted to draw like her, sing like her, enjoy the same music as her, as well as hang out with her friends with her, just like she used to play with mine with me. Though I don’t share her love of jazz music, she is the one that got me interested in Simon & Garfunkel, and I give her credit for the eclectic collection of music I enjoy today.

Kermit was the only reason I tolerated going to church for as long as I did. She has a beautiful voice and I miss being able to listen to it every week. When I later explained this to her husband, he thanked me for sharing her voice with him, and letting him steal her away. I’m still trying to get Kermit to send me a copy of her singing one of the Christmas Songs from Midnight Mass, just so I can listen to her voice again.

It was funny at times, as this little old lady came up to me one day to tell me how much she loved Kermit’s singing. When my sister came out after service, the lady went up and told her everything she had told me, and commented on how I always waited patiently for Kermit to come out afterwards. Thus, she proceeded to ask, “Is she your daughter?” “Well sure! I had her when I was six years old!” My sister responded with a good humored grin. She and the lady had a good laugh before we finally went home.

When she started going to college, she always planned to have me come visit at random points; whenever I had a week vacation and she was still in classes, she’d have me come visit her and hang out with her friends. I adored it, and with her being so close to NYC, Kermit, our other sister, and Dad took me to see some Broadway shows as well.

Things got confusing after she graduated, and I can’t say I know all of the complete details; only because I tend to be in my own little world and am usually the last to know anything that goes on in the family. Together, we are quite dysfunctional. However, I did know that Kermit was getting married, and despite the tension brought on about her choice in faith, churches, ceremonies, and so on; Dad promised to put me on a plane to Utah so I could be there for the wedding as soon as we found out when it was. That didn’t happen.

And nothing was really explained to me until I wrote Kermit a letter about some books of hers I had. I mentioned briefly about my reaction to the wedding notice we received in the mail, and that no matter what everyone else thought or said, I was really happy for her. I mean, seriously. I know that we disagree on several things, but the fact that she found a faith as well as someone in that faith that makes her happy? How could I not be happy for her? She’s my sister! She deserves to be happy in any way she deems suitable for herself, just like everyone else!

The letter she wrote me in response, to this day still makes me cry. The genuine love in her words, the insistent apologies for forgetting how old I really was, and the asking for forgiveness; she already knew she didn’t need to ask. I was overjoyed to learn just how much my sister loved me, how she saw me, and to let her know that I loved her as well.


These memories are what I hold dearest to my heart whenever I think of my middle sister. I hope her family realizes just how wonderful a person she is, and that they never take her for granted. She is a wonderful mother, and an equally as wonderful sister. I should know; I consider her as both. I hope that even if she doesn’t get the gifts on her wish list, that her birthday is still filled with love and joy.