Wishing to be a Sister

1.

The door was closed. My father, not nearby.
I turned the eye-level gold knob.
Folding into the smallest shape,
I squeezed like ghost flowing through the crack.
My heart pounded in my ears. The grownups said
It was her naptime,
That I could see her later. But I couldn’t wait.
The room was dim with the shadows of afternoon light.
I tiptoed to her white wicker bassinette.
Inching closer and closer, peering over the side,
I spied her swaddled in a soft pink blanket,
A face full of pudgy cheeks and a golden
Fluff of hair covering her head.
She was lovely.
I bit my lip, holding back tears.
I wanted with my whole heart
For my cousin, Myla, to be My baby sister,
Her father to be MY father.

2.

Riding tricycles on the packed dirt
In the wide driveway in front of the barn,
We acted out stories of handsome princes and
Beautiful princesses escaping monsters and
Their fathers.
An old white lace curtain, attached with bobby pins,
Trailing down my middle cousin’s long brown hair
Was the bridal veil for the “princess”
As she perched on the tricycle “marrying” my brother,
Her “prince.”
My oldest cousin sang, “Here Comes the Bride.”
I was the clergywoman chanting
Magical charms for the couple to “live happily ever after.”
They rode off, Joyce peddling and
Clutching a bunch of wild daisies.
As they reached the flower garden,
A lump formed in my throat and
Tears blurred my eyes.
I wanted my cousin Joyce to be MY sister,
Her father to be MY father.

3.

The snow was wet and sticky,
Perfect for making snow creatures.
We rolled three colossal snowballs,
Pressing our shoulders into the enormous
Rolling globes when we couldn’t push them
With our hands. No way could we pile
Them up for a snowman.
Lining them up, we made a horse
With mane and ears of snow,
Our intentions connected by
Some invisible thread.
We could think each other’s thoughts
Even though we were four years apart in age.
As we sat on its icy back,
I was linked to her in a special way,
That turned to grief and sadness
Churning in the pit of my stomach.
I wanted this oldest sister to be My sister.
Her father to be MY father.
But she was my cousin, Adrian, her father, my Uncle Aaron.

Left to Right: Adrian, Linda, and Arthur

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