Today is my little sister’s fortieth birthday. And I have to tell you nothing makes you realize time is marching on more than your baby sister turning forty.
I was not quite four when she was born and I loved her from the start.
We’ve played dolls, shared secrets, climbed in bed together when one of us was scared, fought like cats and dogs, cried over hurt feelings, laughed until our sides hurt, and rocked each other’s babies.
And we’ve survived some bad hairstyles.
Sometimes you’re fortunate enough to have one of your best friends born right into your family. And I’m glad that happened to me forty years ago today.
Happy Birthday, Amy! Love you so much.