Happily, Becki

 It is a bittersweet moment to suddenly find that a little sister has become a blossom of the most beautiful kind. And that flower belongs to someone else. She is dancing, but no longer with you. 

The brightness in her eyes sparks into existence from an outside source, and her hands reach first for his. She is laughing and, for once, you’re not an exclusive part of the smiles caught up in her daydreams. But there, in the midst of her mirth, are reminders of the girl she used to be. 

There was a time when her hands were mine to hold, when she was my little bunny, and I was her favorite. There are memories beyond measure of time spent together, kindred spirits from the moment we met. Can we please rewind the days and hours and relive one more afternoon of tea parties in the garden? In the space of a second, when I get the teeniest peek of my baby sister underneath all the beauty of my grown up girl, in that second I think, “What are these bridal shower invitations for? My sweet Rynn is still a little girl!” 

 
 And then I glance back to see a ring on her finger and love in her smile. And I realize that now is beautiful too. I grew up first, and she followed swiftly. Our childhood is a beautiful treasure, but the adventure of married sisters, whose husbands are best friends, is sure to be equally magical.