That makes it sound terribly dramatic doesn’t it? Like she might be off to New Zealand or something, never to be seen again.
She’s not, she’s only going to Ireland, but that is a whole other country, and it will be the farthest away she has ever been from me. I know it’s not technically that far, but at the moment she lives 20 minutes away, and you can’t very easily just go to Ireland for tea can you?
Needless to say, I will miss her very much.
There is something very special about a sibling. You share a complete history, from a very similar perspective, and it gives you a unique bond that you can never really have with anyone else. Nobody else will ever appreciate the fun in a game of ‘Estate Agents’ quite like she will. I also rely on her completely for all of my childhood memories, partly because my memory is terrible, but also because she is the night owl, and I was always in bed before all of the exciting things happened.
Our childhood had its ups and downs, with plenty of house moves, changes of schools, and a smattering of divorce, but throughout everything, I have known that I can rely on my sister 100%, in any situation. She is a constant for me in a life that hasn’t had all that many of them.
Last year when I went through a bit of a dodgy period, fuelled by overwork, a break up, and a house move, she was there for me all the time. When I woke up in the morning and didn’t know how to be on my own, she was endlessly patient when I turned up on her doorstep and just sort of followed her around, crying a bit and generally being pathetic. I felt bad about it, and worried that she might get fed up with me, but she promised that I could cry every day for the rest of our lives and she never would.
Part of the sadness of her moving away is less about missing her, and more the worry of missing her. Will I be OK without her just down the road? What if I get scared or lonely or bored and she’s not there?
And then I tell myself not to be silly, because however far away she is, I know she will always be there.