This is my baby sister attacking me. Today she turns 21. This horrifies me on many levels, mostly because when did we get so old? My sister who used to toddle behind me can legally drink? She’ll be a senior in college next year? And then she’ll be a real person? I have no idea when this happened. But this post isn’t about me, it’s about Sage.

When new friends ask me what Sage is like, I usually end up saying something like, She’s exactly like me except we’re polar opposites. And it’s the truth. Sage is my opposite. I love photography and pretentious movies and books and politics. She loves horses and collared shirts and boys with guitars and Will Ferrell. And yet we are exactly the same. We laugh at the same (inappropriate) things, have parallel passionate love affairs with carbohydrates, and have an identical stubborn streak.

When people meet us from the first time, they always say sisters! it’s so obvious! you look exactly alike! We hated this, and would look at each other and say but we have different eyes, and different noses and different mouths and different face shapes, why does everyone think we look the same? And then one day we were discussing this, how Sage has round green eyes and I have blue almond eyes and how do people think we’re twins? And we went over the full-length mirror in our hallway and stood next to each other and then I said well maybe I see it, and then she started shrieking because OHMYGOD we look exactly the same! And now, if I take a picture of her from a certain angle, I have to stare at it to make sure it’s not me.

When Sage was little she used to ask me questions all. day. long. Unlike many children, she was never satisfied with an ohh, that’s just how it is, or even with answers that she did not like. Every single birthday she had, she would wake up and say Am I older than you yet? Every one, even though we always told her that no, she would never be older than me, that’s just not how it worked. She was never deterred, determined that at some point, if she could just have another birthday, she would finally be able to surpass me.

One of her other favorite requests was for me to repeat the story of when she was born. Her favorite part of this story was how I brought her a stuffed animal and how I had gotten candy. She asked me repeatedly why she didn’t get any candy and quickly became obsessed. She would say this an accusing way, like, I just came into the world and you were already stealing my candy? I tried to explain to her (in my classic know-it-all way) that she was just born and couldn’t eat anything except milk and certainly not candy. But she was never satisfied with this answer and just kept asking. So after awhile, I did what any sane person would and started lying to her. One day when she again asked for the story and again started harping on her lack of candy, I told her oh actually, I did give you some candy, but you were really little, so I only gave you an M&M and you sucked on it because you couldn’t chew and then I gave you another one. And she was so happy, because her constant interrogation had finally broken me and she had figured out the truth.

Unfortunately she’s much harder to fool now. Now she’s at Wooster, winning ribbons on the equestrian team, living in a house and training an adorable service dog named Bebe. She is coming into her own in a big way, deciding where to go from here, struggling with what makes her happy and why. Watching her grow into her dreams is one of the great joys of my life.

Sage has always been drawn to people (and animals) who are different, who might have it a little bit harder than everyone else. This sometimes manifests in strange ways, like when she asked for a pair of crutches for her birthday, even though she was not the least bit hurt. She explained that she just wanted to see what it felt like. And today, it manifests in other ways, in her work with special needs children, in her fascination with behavior, in her insatiable curiosity about why we do what we do. It’s one of my favorite things about her.

We shared a room until I was in fifth grade, at which point I decided that I needed some privacy and asked my mom if I could move into the guest room. I expected Sage to be equally pleased with the idea of having her own space since then we wouldn’t have to fight anymore over the light being on or off or her being quiet while I did my homework, but she just got really, really mad at me. She wouldn’t tell me why for a long time until it got close to my actual move-across-the-hall day, and she tearily confessed that she didn’t want me to leave because whenever she was scared she would climb down her bunkbed ladder and into my bed and knew that I would protect her and now that I was going to be gone, what if something happened? I told her that I was just moving across the hall and that if she got scared to holler for me and I would come defend her against any horror that had found her.

Today much more than a hallway separates us, actually around 380 miles, and it will soon be even more. But Sage, I hope you always remember that whether I’m across the hall or across the country or across the world, my offer still stands. Anytime you get scared or worried or see a monster, just holler and I’ll show up to protect you.

• March 24th, 2008
• friends, portrait
• 1 comment
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