There has been a lot of hero worship going on in our house as of late. It’s always been around.
But, lately, it has amplified.
I don’t know if Rosebud fully recognizes the power she possesses, the weight her influence carries.
I am coaching Cheerio’s basketball team this year. The team consists of nine third and fourth grade girls. I coached Rosebud for six years when she was in elementary and middle school. She has chosen a path that does not include high school basketball, but I figured she had enough experience to qualify as my assistant coach. Plus, she gets volunteer hours so it’s a win-win.
Have you ever seen a pack of puppies falling all over themselves to follow after their Mama? These girls cannot get enough of Rosebud. They gather around her to tell her their stories. Now, Cheerio is not normally one for public displays of affection, but she cannot resist breaking into the circle of admirers and plopping down on her big sister’s lap. Staking her claim. She’s mine, guys. Move along.
Rosebud has a very busy schedule. She carries a full workload at school. She’s involved in community groups and clubs that demand time. And then there’s the friends, of course. So, it wasn’t until this past weekend, when finals were over, that she was able to finally help Cheerio use the cake pop maker she had gotten her for Christmas.
They giggled and laughed and consumed more batter than was healthy or wise. I stood back and listened and watched and basked in the gratitude I feel for this sisterhood.
And more than that, gratitude for this person, this young woman, who makes time to be a hero and is so worthy of that title.
When Rosebud’s friends come over, Cheerio hangs out in her sister’s room with them. They paint her nails or do her hair and listen to her stories of fourth grade. And then, if the conversation takes a more mature turn, Rosebud will gently scoot Cheerio out of the room.
Oh, this relationship is not without its arguments. Cheerio is not pleased with the way Rosebud maintains her side of the bathroom. And of course there are times when Rosebud just wants to be left alone. Frankly, there are days when they hardly see each other at all. I used to worry that the six years between them would be too wide a span to bridge, that they would never relate to each other growing up, thus never solidifying an adult relationship that I so want for them. One that I never had.
But the bond is there. And it is strong. And I pray it will be lasting.
The other night, when they were supposed to be upstairs folding their laundry, I could hear more giggles and laughter and chattering. I let it go. In two years time, Cheerio’s big sister will be leaving for college. There will be little chance for cake pops and basketball practices and late night chit chats. These moments are as fleeting as they are magical.
These moments of sisterhood.