"Of two sisters one is always the watcher, one the dancer." --Louise Gluck

When Chelsea and I were just little tikes,
we were the picture perfect example of the typical younger and older siblings.

Chelsea, being the oldest, was always really neat and clean.
My parents only had to tell her "no" once before she'd immediately stop whatever she was doing wrong. She was girly and loved jewelry, and was always patient enough to partake in crafts and sewing with my Ninny.

I, on the other hand, was the little rebellion, a hurricane with a permanent red popsicle stain around my mouth and hair that was "kinky," in the words of my granny.When my parents would tell me no, I would just pause for a moment, give them a sly little look and slowly, but surely, continue going about my business.

No matter how different we were though, Chelsea and I were glued together.
I absolutely hated being seperated from "my sissy."
In daycare they would always let me sit with the older class (the one that Chelsea was in)
because I'd cry my poor little eyeballs out when we were apart. Chels was the older sister who took care of things and made me feel safe. Even when it came to other kids, Chels stuck up for me through everything. For example, I had a deep love for Barney growing up. You know that little "Barney got shot by a GI Joe" song? Yeah, it broke my little 4 year old heart. So when the kids at daycare sang it, Chelsea always intervened and told them to stop because "my sissy loves Barney!"

Somehow though, as we hit high school, Chels and I switched places.
Suddenly, Chelsea was the one who was always much more willing to test the waters, and I became more of a caretaker, and never did things that I knew would disappoint or worry my mother.

In fact, I called my mom and ASKED if I could skip math class y'all. Who does that?

For the longest time I couldn't really understand this switch.
It puzzled me how we both turned into such opposites of what we were when we kids.

But as time has passed, I've realized that Chelsea and I are still both of these people.
Just as much as I'm a caretaker, I still have that little tangled hair girl inside me who is always pushing her limits. And just as much as Chelsea tests the waters and sometimes does things her own way despite what anyone else has to say about it, she can still be the most nurturing, understanding and reassuring sister I could ever ask for.

But with sisters, you grow and bend for each other, depending on what the other one needs. When Chelsea grew up and wanted to make decisions on her own terms and learn from her own mistakes, I knew that I needed to be the kind of sister who could help her if she needed it. Someone who could provide some calm. And if one of us was going to be the child to make my mother bite her nails, then the other one had to be the one to reassure her and let her know that the other one is a smart girl and she needn't worry. We couldn't have our parents worrying about BOTH of us at once. That would just be cruel. So we've taken turns. After all, if you're both just going hog wild (I'm exaggerating, because Chelsea isn't actually very wild) then life would just be chaos.

But if I chose to suddenly slip back into being my 5 year old, mischeivious self (hypothetically speaking, Mom) I know Chelsea would be right there to talk to me on the phone with some sense and some guidance, and much more understanding than I'm (sadly) ever able to give her.

That's the thing about sisters.
They know what you need without you ever having to verbalize it.
And even in the moments when our differences have distanced us,
I've never doubted for a single second that I could call Chelsea and she'd hurry to my rescue,
like the great, big sissy that she is.