When I was a child I loved to play alone; being social was not my forte. But eventually I dreamed about having a little sister. I visualized dressing her and doing her hair, putting make up on her and having her as my best friend but I knew that at 11 years old I wouldn’t be getting a sister and that I had to accept the fact that I would be an only child for the rest of my life.
Boy was I wrong.
My mom came into my room as I was figuring out how “the internet” dial-up connection worked (yes, internet is not that old). She sat on my bed with a big smile and for some reason I knew the news were big.
My sister was born on New Year’s Eve 1998. One of the happiest days of my life.
I stood there and watched her from the hospital’s nursery window thinking how perfect she was. The first time that I took her in my arms my heart was beating very fast: I was afraid I would drop her. She opened her eyes and stared at me deeply. I knew in that exact moment, that I had just met the light of my life.
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