My big sister turns 40 today. I'm not sure how that's possible, because if she's 40 that means I'll be 40 in 18 months. She's my best friend and I love her very much. She is strong, giving, and funny. She has great fashion sense, knows when to be direct, and gives a mean hep B shot.
We used to color rocks together and sell them on the curb in front of our house. We would pack small bags and run away together to our grandparent's house around the corner. We survived years of matching outfits. We walked to school together, being mistaken for twins until I shot past her in height. She has been there for me through Camp Fire, CCD, K-Tel records, and Solid Gold dancers. We went through the mandatory 1979 Rick Springfield phase together. (That might not have ended yet.) After she graduated and moved out, she would knock on my bedroom window to signal a late-night Denny's run. She helped drop me off for college and gave me the only $20 I had to my name. She celebrated my 30th birthday with me by riding trains through Italy.
Living up the street from her in New York for the past three years was a gift, and I miss that all the time. We've come a long way from the slap fights we used to have while doing the dishes after dinner. She's blazed a trail for me in lots of ways and I will always look up to her.