I do not know what it is like to have a sister. I only have brothers; brothers who have thrown things at me, farted on me, spit on me, peed on me (it happened at least twice), who have had my back no matter what and who I wouldn’t trade for all the sisters in the world. But I do have a cousin and at only 8 months apart, we have been through just about everything together. We went to dance class, swim lessons, parties, our parents divorces, graduations, even a semester of college at the same school. We skied together, got lost on mountains, hiked other mountains, danced and drank together.
Last week I received a package in the mail. On it was a post-it with strict instructions not to open the package under any circumstance until I was on the phone with her. I know of no torture worse, and since she is a nurse and I am a teacher, our schedules did not coincide until Saturday afternoon. When my phone rang, I stopped immediately where I was walking on Guadalupe and sat down on the side of the sidewalk to open the package (which I’d obviously been carrying around with me for 2 days).