I am looking out towards the glistening landscape reflected at me.
I turn to the girl next to me and smile.
She is the only person I knew would be in my life forever; she had been there since I was four. She is here now as I am 40.
The reflected landscape has barely changed in the passing of time, unlike me. The house is the same, the yard the same, and the smiling girl next to me is the same.
She is constant.
She is my constant.
As we sit, we begin to reminisce on our shared childhood memories where we shared a roof, where we shared rushed mornings, and where we shared late-night laughs.
We were involved in the same experiences, and though she refuses to see it, our looks differ only slightly from one another. But, that is all we share. We are drastically different people. She is spontaneous, stubborn, and silly. I was always more placid and less animated than her.
I acted annoyed, and sometimes, I truly was, but now, as I recall her random outburst of songs, her impressions, and the lively atmosphere around her, it only brings a smile to my face.
As I sit with her here, 36 years after she entered my life, I am incredibly thankful for her and her dazzling, never-ending smile.
The smiling girl next to me is still as animated and smiley as ever.
We rock back and forth in our matching chairs, we bring up shenanigans we used to get up to, and we laugh at age-old inside jokes.
She stands up abruptly, turns with a smirk, and decides she wishes to race to the lake. I laugh and tell her we are too old. She rolls her eyes, and I—feeling challenged—arise from the rocking chair. She sprints and jumps straight into the glistening water. I laugh at the edge of the dock and shake my head at her.
The smiling girl smiles up at me before pulling herself up next to me and trying to move the water on her onto me.
We both smile, feeling like kids again.
We both become smiling girls.
I can never thank my smiling girl enough for putting up with me all of these years and for never letting our arguments get in the way of our friendship.
May we always look out at the same glistening landscape reflected in the lake of our childhood with smiles on our faces.
And may you always stay smiling my smiling girl.
Steve Deckrow • Sep 24, 2023 at 2:30 pm
Such a blessing… that you realize at 17 (not 40) what a blessing your younger sister is and will be in your life!
Kristin Arim • Sep 20, 2023 at 3:31 pm
Loved this and love you!!I like the sister side!