Yesterday at 9:00 am central standard time, in Des Moines, Iowa, my little sister walked. Across the stage. At her graduation ceremony. My baby sister, somehow perpetually 12 years old in my head, is now a Doctor of Osteopathic Medicine, ready to take on the responsibility of saving and protecting the life and well-being of her charges. She has a well-defined mission in life now: be a wonderful wife to Matt and mom to Hailey, and first, do no harm. Huge responsibilities for such a little thing as my Abby. Now nearly 26; wife, mother and doctor, she's someone who might still get carded at rated-R movies.
I wanted to be there so badly it hurt. But the circumstances didn't allow me to hug her with tear-filled eyes and tell her how proud I am of her and the difference she makes in so many lives. Instead I had to content myself with looking incessantly at the photos of Ab and Matt and Hailey at the tulip festival in Pella and playing at the park with flowers in their hair, and calling after the ceremony so at least I could congratulate her "in person". As the receiver was passed from guest to guest, my pride was edged out by the lousy realization that I was missing yet another milestone in the life of my family. How many weddings, showers, parties, baptisms, births have I missed out on by being here? How many times have I watched those home-video DVDs with tears streaming down my face, trying desperately to remember what it felt like to hold my niece in my arms when she was still young enough to let me?
Ab and I have not ever been the best of friends. We have antagonized each other more or less since she was born, and there is no one no one else whose buttons I can so efficiently push. I long for more connection there, but those buttons elude me. I think I see Hailey as a way for me to finally bridge the gap. Because loving her, that is something we can definitely agree on. But she's eight and a half months old now, and her mommy is a doctor, and I don't know when I will see them next. Congratulations, Abby. I love you, and I am so proud. I'll do my best to be there... next time.
Sunday, May 29, 2005
A little pomp, a few intervening circumstances...
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1 comment:
Jess, don't worry, you'll have lots of time to be a good aunt to Hailey--and seeing how much you already care for her, she's a lucky little girl. Anyhow, I think most people don't remember much of life until they're at least five or six.
It's interesting what you said about your sister and you not being close. More than anything, I've always longed for a sister, and I'd convinced myself that no matter how much sisters fight, etc., there must be some special bond. I guess I wanted to believe this because I've never been terribly close with my brothers, and I would have liked to simply chalk it up to their being the wrong sex.
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