Tribute to my Sisters

I am the third of four children. All girls, chaotic, silly, and loud. Samantha is the oldest, funny and talented. When I was three we were spinning in a circle together and then all of a sudden I rammed into a corner. She ran to tell my dad and then we drove to the emergency room. Even though the pain of my forehead splitting and the prick of the needle still echoes in my mind, the only thing I can remember from those moments was thinking, “I want Sami to be with me.” My sister brings me comfort, a comfort that can’t be found when you’re alone. But her only talent isn’t being a wonderful sister: her voice is a beautiful talent, it is like honey. When she sings, everyone stops what they’re doing. It’s warm and envelopes you. She is the essence of music. 

Mara is the second, kind and smart. Mara is always up to date on all the celebrity’s dramas, especially Taylor Swift’s. She drove me around a lot. We would get in the car and drive with no real destination and listen to music. We’d roll down the windows and belt out songs together. The wind would rush past my ears and it sounded like the ocean when you put a seashell to your ear. She always knew how to make me laugh. We’d go to Lily Asian Cuisine and she would get sushi, while I would get a bento box. The teriyaki sauce was sweet and tickled my tongue. When I was with her, I felt safe. Nothing could stop those few moments of bliss. 

I am next, quiet and nervous. I am a reader and a movie watcher. If you can’t find me, I’m probably off somewhere wrapped in a blanket reading. My best friend is my mom. I could sit for hours watching her make dinner. We talk and talk and never run out of things to say. The kitchen in our house is simple: granite countertops, yellowish hardwood floors, white cabinets, and a stove that is about to give up helping my mom make dinner. In my mind, it’s perfect. It never mattered to me that we didn’t have a brand new renovated house because of the feeling. It smells like warm bread and feels like a sanctuary. When you walk in you can’t help but let go of all your worries. 

Brynna B is fourth. She is the silliest sister. Not a day goes by that we don’t laugh at something she says or does. She is also incredibly smart. She knows much more than I do even though I’m in ninth grade and she’s in sixth. She is constantly saying things that take us all by surprise. Most days I ask myself, “How does she even know about these things?” Her vocabulary surpassed mine about two years ago. She is also an athlete. Her long legs can cross any size field in a matter of seconds. As that one old man said when watching her run: “She’s the Steph Curry of lacrosse!”

Us girls are a blend of the other. I have the same coloring as Sami but the same face shape as Mara. Mara and Brynna have the same coloring, but Sami and Brynna have the exact same features. Brynna is long and thin. We’re all tall, but Brynna is almost taller than me even while being two and a half years younger than me. Our personalities are very different but Sami, Mara, and Brynna have the same sense of humor. I’m the only one who can’t crack a joke every two minutes without having to think about what I’m going to say beforehand. When you look at us you see only long limbs and smiles.  

All of us are different but we all love each other. We argue like all siblings, but care about each other more than most. We trust each other dearly and never leave each other to fend for ourselves. When Samantha got married, we realized that we had never really been a part. We were always together but now we had to adjust, and it was hard. We learn from each other everyday and also talk constantly. There is never a dull moment when there are four girls making mistakes, tripping over each other, laughing, talking, and loving each other.