If you’ve been following me long enough, you may find this post a sort of surprise. I have mentioned Gabi time and time again; she’s my sister who is 10 years younger than me. We share the same mom, and her dad, Luis, raised me from the time that I was two. You may even remember me sharing the emotional baggage and hurt that came along with my biological father but some time ago, I decided to let it go. I made peace with it, I even tried to get in touch and when it didn’t work out as I had hoped, I didn’t get upset or emotional, I just let it be.
But there are two young girls who I have never mentioned. My sisters.
I have only ever met my sisters once which is probably why it is so hard to speak about them. It makes my heart SO heavy knowing just how much of their lives I have missed, not by my own choosing. I look at Gabs and see how close we are despite her living in another city, how our sister squabbles are nothing in comparison to the bond we share. I appreciate the time I have with her and the memories we share, but somewhere between that, I have the pain of guilt for not having the same relationship with my two sisters in England.
There are just so many things that I wish that they knew. Like how when I was 6, my mom took me to pick out Abi’s very first baby grow at Woolworths. I was so excited and took so much time picking the “right”one. Their mom had only just found out that she was going to be their mum and I hadn’t quite grasped that I was going to be big sister, just yet. Years later, I would finally get on a plane to fly miles across the ocean to meet these two little blonde haired humans, with their toothy grins and innocent excitement for life, I spent the same amount of time picking out their proudly South African outfits, too.
wish they knew just how much I treasured being at their sports day all those years ago, or how I loved sitting on their trampoline under the English sun helping them with their homework. I wish they’d know just how much I long to know them, not just by the random message on social media but really get to know them. I wish that I could see them often enough so that I could judge by their sideways smile, and know better that they aren’t really okay and right now, they could do with a sisterly hug.
I wish my sisters knew that although I never get to see them and don’t often write, that they’re always on my mind. That I look through their photos, their snaps, and even check to see who the person is that they’ve tagged. Not because I care to know the person but because I want to know that my sisters are in good company and that the people they’re surrounded by will love, encourage and motivate them as much as I wish I could. I wish they knew that I still have the photos and cards they drew for me before they even knew how to draw.
I wish my sisters knew just how much I long to be their sister. Not a sister by blood but a big sister doing things that big sisters should. There to mend broken hearts, wipe away the tears, doing their makeup for their prom, cheering the loudest when they succeed and catching them when they fall.