Sisters

Some people call different people for different things. Like, you might call one person when you want to laugh, another when you want serious advice, and someone else when you want to get something off your chest. In general, though, my sister gets calls from me for all of the above (lucky her!).

In fact, I was going to write this post yesterday afternoon but I was on the phone with her. In a way, that tells you everything you need to know about Jenny and me. It's her birthday today, and I've been thinking all day about what I could say about her. But as I've gotten older Jen and I have grown closer, and at this point it's difficult to choose just one memory to share.

Jenny and me, fall 1989

The four oldest children in my family are boys, and Jennifer came fifth. She was the youngest for almost 10 years before I was born. But even with a gap, we're the two youngest in the family, the only girls, and pretty darn good friends. 

I started calling my sister on the phone regularly when I was probably a year or so into college. She was married and had two children at the time, but she was still the closest person to me who had been in my position recently enough to remember it clearly. I can't even tell you how many times I called her with a school or dating crisis that she talked me through, mostly by telling me how insignificant it really was. I seem to remember her saying "Just don't worry about it so much" a lot.

She was a good balance for me in those anxiety-stricken years. Jenny and I are similar in a lot of ways--our eyes, I'm told, are similar, and our high foreheads and face shapes. (Our hair is also frequently the same color, but that has more to do with our preferences in the salon than genetics.) But we are different in a lot of ways, and I think that's what helps us get along so well. 

We chose different fields of study in school, but we are both stay-at-home mothers. I love to read and she does not, but we both love watching The Bachelorette. We both love dressing up our children in cute clothes and painting our daughters' toenails. I like asking questions about motherhood; she likes (or at least doesn't mind) answering them. We talk on the phone almost every day.

Mom, Jenny and me five days before I had Lyla.

But when it comes to choosing memories to relate--where do I begin? I stayed at her house multiple times before flying out of the SLC airport. Her kids love Lyla. Jenny and I video chat at least once a week. I was the maid of honor at her wedding; she was the matron of honor at mine. We once drove to Idaho without a driver's side window, and we stopped in Ogden to "fix" the packing tape that was doubling as glass. I drove to her house at 1 a.m. to babysit her older children when her third was born. She gives Lyla the best hand-me-downs. I went shopping with her and my mom when I was 37 weeks pregnant, and I firmly believe that put me into labor (don't worry--I still carried full term). We laugh a lot when we're together, because we both think we're really, really funny.

But, really. We're totally funny. Obvy. (And we say words like "totally" and "obvy" a lot.)

But to get to the point of all this: Marilyn Monroe said, "The [friends] that stay with you through everything, they're your true best friends. Don't let go of them. Also remember, sisters make the best friends in the world." So I guess that's what I'm trying to say here--you hear that, Jen? You make the best friend in the world.

Happy birthday, Sis!