In the partial numbness aftermath of a momentary emotional breakdown, brought on by certain realizations about my life, i happened to glance over, while holding my tiny sleeping human, and see the literal writing on the wall.

You see, during one of the days my sister was here to babysit so I could work, my lovely, rambunctious, wild as a buck, smart, wonderful two year old niece managed (easily I’m sorry to say) to find an ink pen. She left her mark on the canvas that is my wood wall.

Any normal person, with any normal set of emotions at the time, seeing this might have upset or frustrated them. A normal reaction to seeing a mark on your wall, especially one that cannot be removed or covered up.

In fact, I know that my sister, the mother of that very active niece, would apologize for the mark. I can hear her now.

But, I am not a normal person, and my emotions were not stable at the time. However, I did not get angry. I did not get frustrated. I smiled. I smiled at the mark on my wall, and sighed. The thoughts that then ran through my mind are what led to the writing of this post.

Of the thoughts that ran through my mind, one stands out the most. The fact that my sister is one of my best friends.

I feel like we weren’t close in high school. In fact, I don’t think we got really close until we were in our early to mid twenties. Adults. We weren’t close until we were adults, honestly. And I can contribute that in part to my nephew being born.

We were two very different people in high school. She had her friends and I had mine. We had one or two that overlapped. But we didn’t like the same things, didn’t hang with the same people. We actually have completely opposite tastes in music. LITERALLY. And that seems to have flip-flopped over the years.

But then we grew up, became adults. Well, she became an adult faster than I did, I’m afraid. She moved out and got married before me, had kids before me. Had her first serious relationship before me! Trust me, I was jealous on that fact. She had a lot of firsts before me. I’m the older sister, I should have been first! But I also could have been more outgoing… but that’s another post.So, the writing on the wall, a random scribble by an active two-year-old, reminded me of something I’ve known for a long time. Of all the hurt and heartache and pain I could have in my life, I know of at least one person who will always be there for me. One person who I know is just a text or phone call away. One person who loves me and my baby very much. She’s one of the best mothers I’ve ever known, and I hope I’m half as good as she is.She’s a pretty great sister, too.-c