National Sister’s Day

Claire Doll
MSMU Class of 2024

(8/2022) Some people say we look like twins, but she has brown eyes, with golden flecks like sunlight. Her hair is just a bit darker than mine, and she styles it so much better than I do, pinning it back in a claw clip, letting the waves spiral down her back. And her smile, a beautiful combination of dimples and laughter, holds much more confidence than mine ever will.

Yet, if she takes more than one sip of my Starbucks, I’ll seriously be mad.

She is my sister, my best friend, my inspiration all throughout life.

August 7th is National Sister’s Day, and this Sunday, I have much to be thankful for. My sister and I are 16 months apart, separated by two grades in school. We are so entirely different in our aspirations and lifestyles, yet bound by a wonderful childhood together and a love for coffee, driving around, and singing Taylor Swift. Honestly, if you’ve ever even met me, I’ve probably mentioned Margaret to you. She’s a nurse in the cardiac surgical ICU, fresh out of college and working in Baltimore City. As young adults, we are best friends, catching up on the weekends and scheduling "sister days" where it is just us, where we spend an afternoon shopping and getting lots of coffee.

But it hasn’t always been this way.

My sister and I used to fight—a lot. Being close in age and living right next door to each other, we would constantly get into arguments about stealing Barbies, stealing food, and stealing clothes. My sophomore year of high school, when she was a senior, Margaret drove me to school in her red Honda named Eleanor. Sitting in the exhausted silence of morning and watching the sun flicker its golden rays into the sky, we would bicker about stopping for Dunkin, what music to listen to, and how early we should arrive at school. Every morning was chaos. But truthfully, I always loved those mornings. I loved stepping out of her car and walking to school with her, exchanging banter and instigating comments. I loved telling her about my classes, the ones she had already taken, and gratefully accepting her advice. In short, I loved the time spent with her, the simple moments that, when added together, painted an image of our beautifully crazy relationship.

Things changed when Margaret went to college. I drove myself to school, came home alone, and lost that built-in best friend I was so used to having. However, this distance wound up bringing us closer together; Margaret would often visit on the weekends for a Tropical Smoothie run and a walk on our favorite trail with Toby, our little silky terrier. In my last two years of high school and into college, I experienced it all: drama, heartbreak, crushes, and a stomach-twisting fear of the future. Margaret was always there for me to listen, to wipe my tears, to take me on a long drive in Eleanor. In the middle of COVID-19, when we moved from our childhood home and into the countryside, I was angry, shocked at how everything had changed so quickly. But I still remember Margaret scooping me in her car and telling me about the Starbucks in our new neighborhood. "The drive there from our house is so beautiful," she had told me, and then paid for my iced coffee. In every memory, Margaret is the perfect older sister. Feeding me my bottle as a baby, doing my hair and makeup for prom, teaching me grace in an ever-changing world.

My whole life, she had been paving the path I so easily walked along, and I am forever grateful.

But that’s who sisters are, right? Sisters fight and sing along to Taylor Swift and buy coffee and fight some more. Sisters share clothes and argue about said shared clothes and wear them anyway. Sisters are there for all walks in your life, whether it is building an American Girl Doll mansion in your basement or talking about boys over a plate of sushi.

Truthfully, as the younger sibling, I always compared myself to Margaret. After all, who wouldn’t? She is beautiful, always has been, and is quite honestly the most confident individual I’ve ever met. She carries grace wherever she goes, and it is beyond inspirational. While I am stubborn and dramatic, Margaret is deeply rooted in kindness and patience. And while these differences often cause our arguments, I am eternally thankful to have had such an amazing role model to look up to.

While comparison inevitably leads to jealousy and bitterness in sister relationships, at the end of the day, sisters naturally are meant to lift each other up. This is especially important as we grow older, facing the tumultuous ebb and flow of life. I may still be in college, but Margaret is now a full-time nurse, working several night shifts and constantly serving as a support for her patients. When I graduate and find my own job, I will see my sister less and less. Our frequent "sister days" will come to an end, Margaret will eventually sell her car Eleanor, and we’ll both live in different places leading different lives. It’s a sad reality for many sisters, for many siblings in general, but something that reveals the strength and grace of our friendship.

At the end of the day, Margaret and I will always have our same-sounding laugh, an unstoppable love of coffee, and our tainted and chipped hearts from growing up. We will always have the memories, the American Girl Dolls to give our children. We will always have each other, our childhood, our learned lessons, our experiences and losses. This National Sister’s Day, I encourage you to thank a sister in your life. She could be your own sister, or a best friend, or a sister to someone, because it genuinely takes an immense amount of courage, grace, and love to be a sister, whether younger, older, or in the middle. I know Margaret has all these qualities and more, making her a beautiful woman inside and out.

But seriously, if she takes another sip of my Starbucks, I’ll deny everything (just kidding… of course).

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