|With our Dad, Christmas 1990|
Long story short, we grew. We matured. We experienced loss. And now, we are closer than ever. Yes, we still fight. And yes, in so many ways we are still different. But, as the years pass, we seem to be getting better at seeing the other person's perspective. And unless, the other person is making a horrific mistake, we support each other 100%.
Take my love of endurance sports, for example. My sisters have always been super supportive, despite thinking I was completely insane. They have attended races, babysat so that I could train or race and cheered me on from afar. But, no matter how much I pushed it, I have never been able to get them to join me.
A week or two ago, my youngest sister, G, started texting me that she ran a mile. Then another. And another. I told her that we should do a race. She laughed at me. Then I told her we should do a Disney race (the Tower of Terror 10 Miler, to be exact) and she laughed even harder and said something like, "10 miles is seriously far."
So, I didn't mention it again.
However, this morning, I woke up to a Facebook post from her asking me to make her a 5K plan. Last time, I checked, you don't ask for a 5K plan unless you plan on running a 5K. Score one for me.
On a different note, I am pretty sure hell is freezing over at this very moment ...