Monday, January 31, 2011


At 3 am, Chloe knocked on my bedroom door, she was obeying my wishes and saying goodbye. She pleaded with me through the thick dark wood, telling me to hurry, she had to leave, as I raced around my newly inhabited room trying to locate my keys. My body shook with nerves as I opened the door to bid my baby sister adieu. The same sister who wanted to be princess Jasmine when she was 4, who's striking blue eyes express more emotion than her voice ever will and sparsely shed tears, only to burn right through your heart when they do. She was standing there, amply more awake than me and less sullen. She wore the uncomfortable smirk that always falls across her face when she expects I might cry, and I delivered. My nose began to burn and my chest ached as I hugged her goodbye. 

2 months pregnant and in the throes of 1st trimester nausea, I abandoned my bed and endured a 2 hour car ride in the middle of the night, choking back vomit all the while. After waiting for her delayed flight to arrive, her thin frame and lovely face passed through the sliding glass doors of the airport. It was as if she had been sent on a 3 month boomerang as we fell instantly back into the embrace that parted us. Everything was right again. The missing piece was fitted to the puzzle and the discontentment that it caused was forgotten. For 10 days I soaked up every drop of my previously absent sister, we laughed, and cooked, and snuggled. Her second time leaving was as heart-breaking as the first and I counted the days until her return a month later.

Though she isn't a permanent resident of Casa Montana, she is indefinitely fixed in our hearts. Each time she leaves is less difficult as I become accustomed to the lull that her absence provides and our time spent together is sweeter for having grown separately. Over the last year and a half she has stayed here for time spanning a week to nearly three months. She paid witness to the birth of Tallulah and slept with me the months following, waking in the middle of the night to change her and rock her to sleep. She, unfortunately for me, bakes the best chocolate chip cookies in the world and never fails to leave her drawers hanging wide open. Even so I can't complain for the oodles of unfolded garments emerging from their temporary storage space signify Chloe's presence and inevitably bring a smile to my face.

In the years since our childhood I have watched her develop from a skinny, spunky little girl who refused to shave her legs and answered questions regarding astronomy by saying "I dunno, I'm not a moonologist." To a stunning and creative young woman with just a little of that sass reserved for whenever I take of sip of water, sure to make it come shooting out of my nose. I can't rightly express how excited I am for her adventure to Greece, a journey that I am positive is but the beginning of great things to come. Her ability to manifest confidently is unparalleled and her talent is beautifully rare. She is my sister and my best friend, and though sadness fills me at the prospect of her leaving, I am endlessly grateful to have such a unique, brilliant, hilariously funny person in my life.

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