Polar Opposites

I'm the one with the club. Image from tvtropes
I'm the one with the club.Image from tvtropes
I’m the one with the club.
Image from tvtropes

I have one sister. She’s four and a half years older than me and we are not much alike. We are total polar opposites on most things. There are certain traits we have where we are nearly identical, but that’s mainly a matter of breeding. We both have excellent manners and work ethics, and we’re both loyal and true to our word. All of those things we got from our parents.

However, as far as personalities, we couldn’t be any more different. She is a planner; I am not. She is a talker; I am not. She loves yakking on the phone; I hate it. She’s typically optimistic; I’m usually a pessimist. She worries a lot; I tend to take things in stride. She is the sun; I am the moon. She’s a lot like our mom and I’m more like our dad. But, since the two disparate personalities that make up our parents found each other and have stuck together for over forty years, there’s no reason why my sister and I can’t do the same.

When we were kids, all we had was each other for most of the summer. We’d try to interact with each other, but the huge age difference made it difficult. We came to terms on some things though. We’d go on bike rides and hikes, we’d swim and we were both avid readers. Both of us read every day as kids and we still do. We are both perfectly capable of entertaining ourselves.

As kids, we were never really all that close, and as we grew up, we grew farther apart from each other. Our differences became even more apparent. We only attended the same school at the same time once in high school. I was a freshman and she was a senior. It was strange bumping into her in the halls, but she was nice to me when, by all rights, she could have looked down on the lowly little freshman that I was.

Then, she went off to college and I rarely saw her. When I graduated from high school, I left, too, and eventually, I moved out of state. We had maybe one or two awkward phone conversations a year. Neither one of us knew what to say. We let our differences blind us and we didn’t know each other at all anymore.

Then, about ten years ago, an amazing thing happened. My sister was going through a horrible divorce and she called me up out of the blue. She was in Michigan, I was in California. We started talking on the phone a few times a week. We got to know each other in a way we never had before. I finally had a sister.

When her divorce was finalized, she threw caution and planning to the wind, and moved out to California. She lives two miles from me and we see each other all the time. She has become one of my best friends. Even with the decades of estrangement, no one knows me better than she does. She’s the only one who knows what my childhood was like. She knows it even better than I do since I experienced a head trauma and forgot most of it. I call her the keeper of my memories. She is my mnemonic device, my touchstone.

So, while the differences between us are still great, we acknowledge and accept each other now like we never did before. We know each other better than anyone else and each of us acts as the voice of reason for the other. It took a lot of work to get here and we still have some difficulties from time to time, but there’s just nothing like having a sister and I’m very lucky to have one like mine.