Tuesday, November 29, 2011

That Girl Patricia

Sometimes if you're lucky life delivers beautiful people to you. They may pass in and out of your life or you might be lucky enough to keep them forever. And, if you're truly blessed, you are able to recognize their beauty and let their light fill you up. These people do one thing for you: they make every day better simply by their existence. But this isn't about all those beautiful people, this is about one beautiful person. My sister.
Patricia. 
 
Not everyone gets along with their siblings. Actually, as far as I can tell, the bickering between most brothers and sisters lingers well into the adult years, sometimes straight through until someone dies. And even then I've still seen it at times. I'm fortunate to have a sister I don't bicker with, one I don't resent or hold grudges against. 
 Like a lot of older sisters, mine taught me many things, some valuable, others not. Unlike other people's sisters, mine didn't teach me how to apply make up or flirt with boys. No, the life lessons Patricia taught me extend beyond beauty tips and boyfriend banter. She taught me the important things. The things they don't tell you in Cosmopolitan or teach you on Saved By The Bell, like the unimportance of shaving your leg in the winter. I mean, the hair will help keep you warm and aid in holding your socks up so your ankles don't get a chill. 
In truth, I owe her more than she even knows. Not only did she give me my love for books, but she indirectly gave me my passion for words. Without her, I doubt I'd be a writer. I'd probably be a world famous brain surgeon. All jokes to the side, Patricia validates who I am as a person. She has always embraced who I am, whether that was the severely awkward teenager in plaid pants and gas station attendants' shirts or the vivacious and severely awkward creature you see before you today. That sort of respect and acceptance can't be bought. It doesn't go on sale, you can't pick it up for half price at Wal-Mart and you certainly can't just trample someone for it on Black Friday. 
No, what Patricia offers me surpasses anything else in this world. It cannot be held in my hands or put in a box for safe keeping, but it still lights me up. Her love keeps me grounded. It reminds me of where I came from and how far I can go. I know I always have someone on my side, someone in my corner, someone who will either hold my hand or give me a kick in the ass, depending on what the situation calls for. But the best part, she lets me make my own mistakes and has always been there to lend a hand when I discover how much I've truly messed up.
 
There are many memories that come to mind when I think of my sister. We've had so many laughs, mostly inappropriate ones, and yet those aren't the times that stand out the most. The moments I often find myself reflecting on are the ones where I'm at my rawest and she's been there, not only to listen to my sob story, but to remind me of who I am. She's always demonstrated a faith in me that is baffling. She shows me that I will find my way back home, no matter how lost I am in this crazy world.
 
Right now I am thinking about when I broke up with my ex-ex (the ex before my last ex). I left his house with my pink bike and a backpack stuffed with as many things as I could shove into it. There were still two garbage bags left at his house. Baggage, indeed. I didn't live far from him, I could have rode my bike home and been there in minutes, but I just couldn't work. My feet wouldn't peddle. The sorrow and anger refused to be stopped.

And so, I called my sister. 
To this day, I don't know where she was or what she was doing, but she came for me. I sat at the side of the road, cross legged and cried as I waited. I don't know how much time passed. All I thought about was the shattered feeling inside me. Later on, I reflected on how there was no hesitation on her part. And when she got out of the car and proceeded in trying to shove my bike in the back of her car, there was no judgement or annoyance. She didn't even ask me what happened. We sat in the car for along time. Not really talking. Just sitting. Being in her presence in that moment started healing me. It was as simple as being next to her.

There's been countless other times, some very recent, where I've turned to her for help and all it took was being in her company to settle me down and clear my head. I can't describe all the things she does for me. Words do her no justice. There are no lines to be crossed. No judgements to be had. And certainly nothing deemed too taboo to say. She makes me laugh even when I'm crying and that truly says it all. 
 
 Happy Birthday, Patricia! I love you more than a fat kid loves cake. And I'd know. 

6 comments:

Jasmine Walt said...

Aww. How sweet. Sisters are the best. <3

Genevieve Graham-Sawchyn said...

That's so CUTE!!!

Holly L'Oiseau said...

You made me want to give my older sister a big 'ol hug! Yes, I think I will Skype hug her tonight all because of you! Thank you.

T.L Tyson said...

Thank you ladies! :)

And I encourage you to pass the love along. :)

Nikki Orr said...

You ladies, are beautiful and I am very happy, that you turned out happy!

T.L Tyson said...

Nikki! :D