Love, Your Sister.

Returning to Montana three years later has been incredible and I have struggled to find actual words to do justice to my experience.  I am still in the midst of processing everything but there was one moment that caught me extremely off-guard, leading to many more of moments like that one in the two weeks I was there.  That moment, I remember very clearly, was me stepping out of the car to surprise my brother, Nathan.  The moment his eyes were uncovered and the expression that he had on his face when he saw me was beautiful.  He grabbed me and thrust himself on me with the longest, strongest, and one of the most difficult hugs I've had.  Difficult because he was crying on my shoulder--I didn't hear or see it but I didn't have to.  I could feel it when he didn't let go.  And with that hug, was so much of that love I had of this unassuming and incredible town I now call my home as well.  The following writing is inspired by that moment but represents more than my feelings towards my brother but extends to my whole family in Montana and my feelings, thoughts, worries, and joys of many similar moments with my second family that I have had throughout my stay.

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Dear little brother,

I love you.

I like the way you smile with your eyes--that’s when I know you mean it.  You take me aback when you suddenly inquire, out of the blue, about me—a sudden indication of how you have matured in the three years I haven’t been here.  Your height did give it away. But it is more than that.  I see it in your eyes.

I will always remember your expression as I opened the car door and beamed back at you, the first time in three years, in our attempt to surprise you of my return.  Instead, you surprised me by hugging me so tightly, so long that I thought I would cry if we kept holding each other any longer.  I could feel your face against my chest and that rhythmic beat of a muffled voice, suppressing the sobs—I hope—of joy.  I missed you.  And it was the best Christmas gift ever to be surprised by how much you missed me as well. Oh, what a heart you have.

When I come across racing game apps, see a middle school boy in passing, or even encounter a lanky pubescent teenage boy, I find my thoughts sometimes creeping back to you in one shape, way, or form.  And I get this feeling in the bottom of my stomach.  It is called fear.  Fear of the unknown and maybe a bit of anticipation of the wonderful, unpredictable, and beautiful moments of life—adolescent life.  I think about how handsome my little brother will be.  I hope for that smile with your eyes to stay as genuine and true and earnest as it possibly can when a boy becomes a teenager and is pulled in so many different directions of his peers and the world.  I go into big sister mode and threaten the world that they better watch out and not double-cross me and do harm to my lovely little brother with the dangerous thoughts and paths the world can tempt young boys to take.  But somewhere in the whisper of the night, I know that the rocky terrain is part of the hike and our journeys in life are incomplete without them.  I pray that, as you hike through the rocky terrains in the coming years and fall (yes, I acknowledge that you will fall), that beautiful, kind, and loving heart I saw through those eyes and felt will find it’s way through—never losing that shine in yourself that matters most.

So, I bite my heart a little and convince myself that I will be brave.  I will have a little faith that things are going to keep going.  Things are going to be okay.

I leave my thoughts here just for, perhaps, me to see (for now) for fear that you may think I worry a little too much.  Or that you may be, at any time in the coming adolescent years, at the stage where you are being told that this post is too cheesy for “guys.” (But I don’t think it is.  And I believe guys should not be subjected to false stereotypes of what society define as “manliness.” Boys have just as much right to be vulnerable as girls and it is this that I fear the most: that you will not know this in the coming teenage years when you need to know it the most. But I will wrestle this slightly eager heart of a sister here and save it for a future post.) 

For now, let’s just say that this is what big sisters do: 

Love you.

Nathan (after taking the photo): "Wow, I look a little fat in this one."
2011

Nathan (after taking the photo): "Hm. I look kind of weird."
2014

Oh, Nathan.

2011

2014

Thank you.