My sister was and is my life. I was born on December 30, 1990. My sister Zoe was born December 6, 2001. I even watched her being born because my mother’s water broke and dad was at work and I couldn’t drive so we had to call 911. They didn’t make it in time so my mother had her at the house. It took less than two minutes from the time my mother started pushing and I saw Zoe's dark hair on her head starting to protrude from Mom's vaginal area. Then, she just slid out. And it was like the paramedics knew the exact time to intervene because when Zoe Thompson slid herself out into this world they were knocking on the door and I let them in. They took all of us in the back of the ambulance to the hospital and I was in awe of my sister since that very episode. She was and is so beautiful.
I learned to take care of her immediately. Watching everything my mother and father did. Zoe was mine as well as my mother’s and father’s. When she was brought home and she was in her crib I would spend so much time just looking at her. When she needed to be fed or changed I was on it. I had watched mom and dad do it so it was no problem at all. After feeding her, I would sit in her room in the rocker that my parents bought for her room, and rock her and burp her. She would be so comfortable. I would put her face next to mine, her head lying on my shoulder burping and resting. She was and is so beautiful.
I would sleep on the floor in her room so my mom and dad would not have to get up during the night. As soon as I would hear her starting to be irritated I knew she needed to be changed and I would change her, kiss her on the cheek and lie her back down in her crib, sit in the rocker and watch her fall peacefully back to sleep. Zoe fascinated me so. I love her. I was going to protect her forever.
I would run home after getting off of the bus and get there in time for her afternoon feeding and feed her. My mom and dad would smile at me all the time. I don’t know why. I wasn’t doing anything extraordinary, I just wanted to be there for her. She is my sister after all. I loved when she smiled at me. I would ask her, “What are you smiling at?” And she would smile even more and I would hold her even tighter.
I would take her out on our screened in porch and point things out to her explaining to her this new world she was witnessing. “That’s a Toyota Camry. Made by a Japanese company.” I’m sure she didn’t really understand what I was telling her but she indulged me all the same. “That’s a tree. It’s spelled T-R-E-E. Can you spell that for me?” And she would extend her hands trying to grab my nose or my cheek. “That’s my nose Zoe,” I would explain to her nasally. “Nose is spelled, N-O-S-E. Now you spell that for me?” She would continue to hold my nose fascinated by maybe by the shape and the way my voice changed while she gently held it closed.
Time has passed but the way that I feel about my sister never has and never will. I was and am an “A” student. My grades did not get like that until my sister was brought into this world. She has changed me in a very good way. We sit out on our screened in porch,now that she is school age, after the day is done and I’ll ask her about her day and she tells me everything that she has learned, the new children that she’s met…she makes me smile. Then she’ll ask me after she is through with her daily updates, “So, what did you do today Tommy?” And I would fill her in and she would ask me questions here and there, always so attentive. At the end I would always say, “There, you see? Our lives are not so much different after all.” She would smile her beautiful smile, get up out of her seat and say, “Yea!” And come and hug me, then would retract a little bit, looking me in the eye and say, “I love you Tommy.” I would smile back at her, usually beaming and say, “And I love you too Z.” And she would embrace me again.
I love her. And I will protect her forever.
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