What It Means to Me

You know,

I was thinking tonight

about a very special part of

who I am.

A big sister.

To me, that's a lot of things.

It means

cuddles at bedtime,

rocking in a rocking chair,

whispered I love you's,

and wisped and curly hair.

It's both

laughter

and tears

and shared hugs

and fears.

It's

messy, ruined t-shirts

from too many spilled drinks.

It's

dirty, mud-caked hands

from making mud cakes on bricks.

It's

pj's and

pb&j's (and

sometimes just pb's).

It's

crocheted scarves and

crocheted shawls and

matching shoes and dresses.

It's

humor at the little things--

the garbled phrases and messes

which turn 'mascara' into 'mustard',

and makes laughter out of 'fesses.

It's grimy fingerprints

on freshly washed windows.

It's paint dripped on the floor,

the chair, the hair, the clothes.

Though it's loud,

it's fun,

and so what if tempers flare sometimes?

There's snickers over Snicker bars

and laughter over tea,

and I can't imagine any friends

closer than my siblings and me.

It's lots of other things, too.

Blessings and birthdays

Bedtime prayers

Texas sheet cake

Coloring and drawing
"I'm sorry"
"I love you"

Making music
Pancakes

Fuzzy socks

Knee-high socks

Any socks

Blankets & Cozies

Movies & Oldies

Band-Aids & Kisses

Hersheys of sis's

At least...

That's what it means to me.