Amy Wenzel Photography

Meet my big sister-

The one whose scalp I tried to decimate.  Although she lives so far away I really don’t know what I would do without her.  I took these photos of her with her kids when I went to Savannah to visit in September.  I know how lucky her kids are to have her for a mom because I know how lucky I was to have her for a big sister.  I don’t say that lightly.  Her kids will never doubt that she loves them or that they can do anything they want to do with their life.  She’s truly an amazing person.  That being said I don’t think I’ve ever forgiven her for leaving and going to college when I was in sixth grade.  I’m still waiting for an apology.  How dare she.

One of my earliest recollections of my reliance on her is a time she helped me get ready for a birthday party I was attending that evening at McDonalds.  I was in kindergarten and she was 10 years old.   My mom was getting home late, so my sister gave me my bath, helped me pick out my dress, styled my hair, gave me a speech about what to expect at my first party, and had me primped and primed to walk out the door as soon as my mom arrived.  As a child I was extremely timid of new situations.  I saw the world outside of my home as a huge and scary place that I did not belong.  I still remember the butterflies churning my stomach about attending the party and how her soothing words tempered my nerves and gave me a hope to hold onto that maybe, just maybe I wouldn’t die an atrocious death at the birthday party or somehow get lost and never be able to find my way home from McDonalds.

She was the confident one. The one who always appeared as though she knew exactly what she was doing each step of the way.  Why did growing up seem so easy for everyone else while I was so unsure of myself?  I would have been content to hide behind the legs of my older sisters my entire life and watch them take the world by storm.  My big sisters had all the answers I desperately needed for all my “first times.”   I was a stubborn and strong-willed child, but somehow that tenacity didn’t translate into the confidence to believe that I would be okay all on my own experiencing something new.  I think that is the number one thing I can thank my oldest sister for-  all the times I was paralyzed by fear but she was there to tell me what to do next.  To advise me, hold my hand and give me the confidence to believe that I could do it.  Whatever it was…a birthday party, my first time riding the bus (oh God help me), going on my first date (I almost passed out) or trying out for cheerleading.   She was a psychological anchor.  She pep talked me through life.

Even now that I am adult I know I can call her for answers.  Or support.  If I can’t remember a recipe, or have some weird medical symptom, or don’t know quite how to navigate a difficult relationship.  I can see now that she wasn’t always as confident on the inside as she appeared on the outside and I love her even the more for it.  And although I have blossomed into someone who truly believes that anything is possible for me if I am willing to chase it down, I sometimes find myself reaching for the phone to call my big sister and hear her reassuring thoughts.  That everything really is going to be okay for me in this big scary world I now traverse on my own.