The day after I turned seven years old I was blessed with a baby sister.
I was ecstatic. Who doesn’t want a mini version of themselves getting into all of their makeup and wearing all of their clothes?
Soon enough my mom explained to me that this was not just any ordinary sister. That she wouldn’t be in my makeup and she wouldn’t be wearing my clothes because she might never be able to do any of these things on her own.
My sister. My little golden sister. My milk and honey sister. My other half. My rock. A soulmate sent from heaven.
To anyone else my sister is unusual. To the doctor my sister has Autism. But to me, she is completely normal.
When people ask what is “wrong” with her I am almost offended. Nothing is “wrong” with her. Yes, her life is an unyielding, never-ending, constant battle that our family has endured, but our family has become 10x the family it would have become without Autism. Without her…
More patience. More flexibility. More understanding. More loving.
An undying hope, for this hopeless soul.
My sister is thirteen years old today. She is the most beautiful human I have ever met in my entire life. She is so smart, so honest, so loving, so stubborn, so funny, so sarcastic, so artistic, and so herself.
I never knew what it meant to look up to someone younger than you until this soul came into my life.
I would love to become half the teenager my sister is. A dancer. A track star. A human.
I love her more than life.
I would die for her.
My little sister. My little golden sister. My milk and honey sister. My other half. My rock. A soulmate sent from heaven who happens to have Autism, and I wouldn’t want it anyway else!
See you soon,