For the past 2 ½ years, I have been volenteering as a big sister for the Big Brothers Big Sisters organization. My little sister is a percotious teenager that’s highly skilled at the art of getting herself into trouble. I often joke that being a big sister is great birth control – as seeing an obnocious teenager once a week is all the motivation I need to put off having kids of my own. But I have still loved the time I’ve spent with my little sister.
Our weekly visits have lead to me seeing every Zac Efron movie ever made and spinning around on carnival rides until I threw up my elephant ear. And my little sisters gotten to see Mt St Helans, Multnomah Falls, and she once gave Brandon Roy a high five (definately a bigger deal than viewing an active volcano).
Now my little pest is setting off on a new adventure without me. Her family is moving to Kentucky. I think the move will be really good for her, and her family. They are going to live with some friends, which means she will have a support system in place as soon as she gets there. But that support system will no longer include me.
My little sister isn’t a perfect kid. She has managed to get herself into a lot of trouble over the past 2 ½ years. And I’ve often wondered if watching “Hanna Montana” and eating Chinesse food was making a difference. But I’ve witnessed enough subtle changes in her attitude to stick with her, and I honestly believe she is better at making healthy choices now then she was when we first met.
As I was saying goodbye to my little pest and her family, her mom told me something that made all the carnival rides and trips to the zoo worth wile. Apparently when faced with pear pressues and unforgiving friends, my little sister has often made the comment, “Kate never does that.” I haven’t done anything great or nobal. I’ve just paid for a few slices of pizza and sat through some cheezy movies. And I’ve been there. Once a week for 2 ½ years, I’ve been there. And now I have to say goodbye.
I know I will never forget my little pest, and I hope that she never forgets me. I hope she remembers that it’s okay to act like a goofy kid sometimes, and that she doesn’t have to grow up to fast. And when the time does come for her to grow up, I hope that she knows she is special, that she is loved, and that she is capable of making strong and healthy choices for herself.