BELATED INTERNATIONAL WOMEN’S DAY
An Ode to My Older Sister Who Raised Me
A caregiver far too young
A few weeks after I was born, my mom came into my room to find my four-year-old sister had put me in a drawer and was now attempting to close it.
“What are you doing?” Mom asked.
“Put her away, Mommy. She’s too loud.”
It’s safe to say Jamie wasn’t wowed when we first met. As the youngest in my family, I never had to adjust to a new baby. But I can understand how being promised something exciting and getting a squawking little being who diverts your parents’ attention but can’t yet play must seem like a raw deal.
Fortunately for both of us, her feelings for me grew over time. Jamie is a natural caregiver, so for the most part, she didn’t mind that I was her little shadow. If she wore something, I wanted to wear it, too. If she went somewhere, I was going to follow. And when she got her ears pierced, you bet your life mine got pierced as well.
Although my mother had three kids, she didn’t enjoy being a mom. She deeply resented any time her children required of her, which was evident from my earliest memories.
My parents divorced when I was young so I didn’t see my dad on a day-to-day basis. My brother had…
