I'm Still a Goose But She's a Hummingbird

I was born first – the first great-granddaughter on both sides of my enormous Southern family. Blessed with immeasurable love and tradition, I embraced their myriad of high expectations, endeavoring to excel at school while mastering ballet, basketball, piano, and choir.  I seamlessly integrated theatre, cross stitch, recitals and horseback riding into my childhood. I became well read, well-traveled, and soft spoken yet strong enough to handle a .410 shotgun I received on my eighth birthday. I could marvel at a ballet production of Swan Lake and hunt for ducks in the same weekend. 
 
As this good Christian girl, I dared not rebel; I strayed. I chose Auburn over Georgia and French Studies over MBA. Six years after an incredibly expensive wedding (twelve bridesmaids), I managed the first gut wrenching divorce in the family.  Eventually, I did remarry, introducing my family to the concept of step.  The contradictions continue. I even turned Baptist in a family of Methodists.
 
Yet, my identity is irrevocably connected to my baby sister, Amy, a belated present on my fourth birthday. She is Barbie doll, cheerleader, and hot sauce- a sassy hummingbird in high heels. I am, well, not any of those things. She worries while I take unnecessary chances. She cooks and nurtures, using thoughtfulness to see what must be done. I embrace take out and tough love, imagining how things can be different.
 
She asks, Where are you going now?
I respond, Will you go with me?
 
Early on, I took responsibility for our criminal activity, suffering blame when she drove our gold station wagon into the side of Mama Jo’s garage. I mastered my parents’ signatures for weekly sign and returns. During covert pre-Christmas operations, I guarded while she moved with ninja speed around our tree, opening and inspecting our gifts. When times were tough in college, we kited each other’s checks. After Daddy gave his kidney to Mama, we silently hovered over their beds, waiting to be needed. We didn’t fight; it was forbidden. Instead, we angels schemed, covering for one another, and praying all the while.
 
We still do.
 
It is worth mentioning that Amy and I are both intentionally blond, and we pay good money for it. One glance, one grin, and our laughter will erupt at inside jokes. We can never sit together at church, weddings, or funerals. How she loves that I’ve even been mistaken for her mother twice in the same week!
 
We are also teachers, growing up in a family full of them. Many of the inspirational ideas I have about teaching elementary kids come from Amy. She selflessly shares the best of our profession. Amy can be found zipping about in her classroom with a highly tuned sense of control. She doesn’t miss a thing as she hovers over her kids, mesmerizing them with her kind, beautiful smile and dynamic personality.
 
Yep. I’m still a goose, but my baby sister is a hummingbird.

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