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An Ode to Sissybug
Happy Birthday

I don't do poetry, so don't you dare expect that from me, even if this post is called an ode. Stop nitpicking.


Today is your birthday, and I wanted to let you know that I love you. We don't say that enough, you know?

Newborn Stefers fed by Sissybug!
You were born on December 19th, 1983, which makes you 31 years old today. That weirds me out. You're 31. When did you get old??

SIDE NOTE: Shhhhh... 3 years in sister age difference 
is equivalent to a decade, so I just turned 21 this year.

When we were kids, specifically once your teenage years started, you and I were not friends. I was the annoying little snot of a sister who wanted to be like you, to do everything that you did, to tag along with your and your cooler, older friends instead of my own.

Your face speaks sooooooooooo many words in this photo.
We fought like cats and dogs, said terrible things to each other, and (until I grew to be larger in size than you) got into some pretty wild fisticuffs. 

Our ritual "Sissybug plays a game while Stefers watches" time.
You were never very good at sharing, but that's okay.
I just liked spending time with you.
I remember the very moment that you realized fighting with me was probably ill-advised:

I don't remember what we were fighting about, but it was something that either one or both of us thought was very important at the time. Most likely, it was about ownership of some item or something like that.

You grabbed me around the shoulders, and I bent over and lifted you off the ground, completely debilitating any plans of dominating the fight that you had. You didn't know what I was going to do, so I imagine you were thrown off and a little bit scared, but after you stopped struggling / screaming (streagling?), I put you back on the ground and walked off. Knowing me, I probably made some unnecessary, biting comment as I walked off, but I can't remember what it was. The point is, I made it clear that you might be the older sister, but I was the bigger one. We still had our squabbles, but things never got physical after that.

This continued on into your moody, depressive high school years (same time as my moody, dramatic middle school years), and despite the constant bickering I still looked up to you. You were creative, smart, did well in school, and you always had a connection with Dad that I have never been able to experience in my own personal dealings with him. I envied you a great deal for that.

We liked wearing those dresses for around a minute.
I missed you dearly during your college years. It was like you had forgotten about me, that you had found new friends and family that you liked better, and it was a sore spot for quite some time for me. Not only that, but I hate that I missed out on such a large, formative chunk of your life. I understand that there were extenuating circumstances, but that doesn't make it any less painful.

It wasn't until many years later, after you had finished college, that we reconnected and actually started behaving like people who enjoyed one another's company. And boy, am I happy that we finally decided to grow up and do that. We even went so far as to live with one another. Crazy? Perhaps. But it helped us grow closer after years of separation. Never again, though. Never. Again. I'm sure you agree with me.

We abandoned pants long before Lady Gaga made it cool.
Our friendship as sisters has only grown over the last few years. Yes, we have our disagreements, and we don't always find resolution to the fact that we are different people and think differently from one another, but somewhere underneath all of the ideology-clashing and history of fights, there is a sisterly bond that we'll never be able to find in a single other human being, and I find that to be invaluable.

It has since opened up a lot of creative avenues for both of us (Dear Sissybug Book Review, for one), but it has also allowed us to pontificate upon our past and grow even more from it, understanding why something happened now that we were privy to both sides of the stories.

Why did Mom react this way when I did "x?"
Well, it's because she had just gotten finished yelling at me about doing "y."
Oh, I guess that makes sense then.
Man, we were such little twats.

At the end of the day, we are different. Everything about us is like night and day, and it makes sense that we fought, squabbled, swiped, and punched each other growing up.

That being said, however, I wouldn't trade you for anyone else in the world. You're my Sissybug, and I am proud and happy to be your sister.

May you never stop growing and learning, 
and may you always keep your eyes pointed toward the horizon.
Here's to the future.

Happy Birthday, Sissybug.
I love you.



thank you very much for sharing with us this great post

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