30 Days Of Thanks: Heather (Sister)

Dear Heather,

            For as long as I can remember, we have fought like brother and sister. Sometimes I forget that you are my younger sister because your friends were always older than me. You learned how to tie your shoes and got a driver’s license before me.

            I don’t know if it is our mere two year age gap that had us butting heads for so long. Maybe it is because my teasing and testing nature doesn’t mesh with your “no B.S.” persona. You have never been reserved and always been more than happy to tell me when I’m wrong. Maybe that is just the way it is supposed to be with siblings. I’m sorry for the countless fights that I’ve started with you over the years. How were you supposed to know that you were grinding your teeth in your sleep? I was out of line for hitting you then. I just want to let you know that even as I was punching you on your back, I still scaled back on my abuse. I.e. a few days before Christmas when you punched me in the mouth. Remember all of those awesome pictures that looked like a I had a cold sore? Thanks for that.

          But this isn’t a 12-step letter to apologize for past regressions. It is to thank you for being a part of my life. Thank you for going along to Europe. I still think that to this day, it might be the most influential 6-week span of my life. I remember the numerous times that we got lost. Or Arik did, and we had to find him. Or all the times that we made quick decisions on where to go next. Like spending your twenty-first birthday in Paris.
             Thanks for letting me win the competition. And for providing so much comic relief with your anger vents.

“They made me pay to got pee!”

            Thank you for letting me perform your wedding ceremony. I think that it was great and I hope that it was what you wished for. I couldn’t believe how cool you were with it, even after I semi-invited myself to do it.

            I am proud of you and your culinary endeavors. I’m always telling people that my little sister went to the Culinary Institute of America and that I’m not ashamed to say that I’m the third-best cook in the family.

            Thank you for letting me come to visit you on Thanksgiving. Sorry that it didn’t turn out like either of us had hoped. Leigha still holds it against me that I left on our first Thanksgiving as a married couple. But the food was good. Even the New York City trip was so bad that it ended up being good.

Thank you. Thank you. And I love you.

Adam