Just like Lucy, I have a wonderful big sister. Her name is Lisa, and she has literally saved my life more than once! Here’s the story.
When I was 3 years old, I fell backwards into the deep end of my grandparents’ pool. My 7-year-old sister is the only one who heard the splash. She dove in and saved me from drowning.
When I was 5 years old, I jumped from the attic of a neighbor’s garage. I mistakenly thought I could land in the driver’s seat of the convertible parked inside. Instead, I landed head first on the concrete floor. My 9-year-old sister came running down the street when she heard the ambulance roar by. She says she knew it was for me.
I was unconscious and throwing up pink. The paramedics were alarmed that it might be blood. My sister explained that it was probably because of the frosted strawberry pop tarts I’d eaten for breakfast.
My mom was at the Ohio State football game. That was before cell phones and even pagers. They had to page her over the stadium loudspeaker. “Please call Children’s Hospital immediately”. Every mother’s nightmare.
I was rushed to Children’s Hospital where I eventually recovered. Many days later, I finally got to go home. My sister let me sleep in her bed so I could be closer to mom.
When I was 9 years old, my sister and I went sledding with the neighbors. We lived along the river, so my sister set up a blockade so we wouldn’t sled into the icy water. Instead, I sledded head first into the large stone fireplace. Like any head injury, the blood was everywhere. My 13-year-old sister somehow carried me up the hill to our house and my mom. We left a long bright red trail in the snow.
We raced to the emergency room where I received 18 stitches to my head. I remember a very long needle, and a very long afternoon at the ER.
Once we finally got back home, my sister went out in the dark with a flashlight. She searched in the white snow for the white tooth that I had knocked loose. She knew it was only a baby tooth, but she still searched.
These stories illustrate not only how incredibly accident prone I was as a child. Frankly, I still am. Far more importantly, they tell the story of my amazing big sister, Lisa.
Over thirty years later, the accidents have thankfully declined. I still manage some crazy injuries (mowing over a hornet’s nest a few summers ago comes to mind), but I don’t require medical attention quite as often. However, I still need my sister just as much.
Being a big sister is a tough and often thankless job. Lisa was always there for me when I was sick, or hurt, or frightened. I probably never properly thanked her. In fact, I remember actually complaining when she saved me from drowning. Apparently she scratched my stomach on the cement as she hoisted me out of the deep end.
I also recall one morning on the bus ride to school when I realized that I had forgotten my lunch money. I was only in first or second grade, but I vividly remember my sister handing me the money she had brought for lunch. I do not remember wondering what poor Lisa would eat that day.
Big sisters carry a lot of weight on their shoulders. They are like a mom to their younger siblings. They are the worriers, the responsible ones, the good example that needs to be set.
Plus, they stand by and watch as their younger siblings get more stuff, get away with a lot more things, and require more attention than they ever did.
My sister has a birthday coming up. That reminds me that I do not thank her enough for all that she does, and I could never thank her enough for all that she has done.
Sweet Lisa, you are an exceptional big sister and I am blessed to have you. Thank you for saving my life, sacrificing for me, and always having my back! Happy Birthday. You are the best!
P.S. I owe you a lunch.