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This past weekend was Mother's Day. Most people (myself included) make sure they shop for their Mom and try their best to make her feel loved and appreciated. Even when Mom says the typical, "I don't need anything." we still try our best to make her feel special.
But what happens when your Mother isn't exactly the one who raised you? Well, you go through the motions anyway, but you can't help but reminisce about who was really there. Who really "parented" you.
Mom was there. She drove us places and was always home, but she wasn't always (or hardly ever) "present".
My sister raised me. She taught me my ABC's, how to apply makeup, how to fix my hair, how to sew a button on, how to believe in myself, and so much more.
I remember (because my sister is 10 years older than me) being so impressed with absolutely everything my sister did. She was beautiful, courageous, smart, independent, fun, and funny. Her clothes perfectly fit, and her style is one to be envied by any Hollywood starlet.
Oh, and tough. She'd correct me like any good Mother would. And later, we'd snuggle. She'd let me play with her hair until I fell asleep.
She taught me the important things too. Like Stevie Nicks, Bread, and even though I'm not near the fan that she is, the Rolling Stones.
I remember her putting on many band-aids and shoving a baby aspirin in my mouth when needed. (Stop freaking out...baby aspirin was actually for babies back then.)
I remember she'd even take one too so I didn't think they were that bad.
I also remember her being there. Even when she grew up and moved away, she was still "there". I could call her and ask all of those "sister questions". I still do.
Sure, we've had tiffs. Of course we have... we're sisters! And usually, she was right. But one thing is for sure. Her faith in me has never faltered. She has shown in a million ways that she's proud of me. She has always shown that she loves me. Unconditionally.
So, here we are, a couple of days after Mother's Day and I can't help but still think of her. Her birthday is tomorrow. My sister. My "mom". And you know what I think about the most? We may not get the mom we wish we had....but God makes sure you get a replacement, so to speak. I got my sister. And I thank Him. Every. Single. Day. I may not say it very often, but I couldn't love her more. And I can't even come close to describing how proud I am to be HER little sister.
