I Carry Their Hearts

‘i carry your heart’ by E.E. Cummings

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart) i am never without it (anywhere
  i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
  by only me is your doing, my darling)

i fear
 no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want
no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
 and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud
 of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
 higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
  and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

I think this poem was written by E.E., with the intention of being a passionate, mountain-moving love letter. It is a love letter for me as well, but rather than a steamy, timeless romance, it is that of my sisters. They are eight and four and half (to the day!) years older than I. Anyone that has sisters or even siblings understands what it can be like: ups and downs, fights, tears, hugging, heartbreak, everything. That said, what is earth-shattering for a sixth grader is not the same for a senior in high school across town and significantly different for a senior in college on the other side of the country. While my oldest sister was planning a wedding, I was trying and failing to learn algebra. My middle sister was dating and I was playing Barbie's Dream House. Our lives were never quite on the same path, which made the dynamics between us tough. 

My oldest sister being eight years older was amazing from my perspective. She was mature enough to know the differences between what was important and what wasn't. James would listen to me complain about the mean AOL IMs I was receiving from a boy I liked in middle school. My high school cheerleading drama was probably something she would replay to her husband as a dinnertime laugh for the two of them. College procrastinations, identity crises, crazy theme parties, and cheating boyfriends brought plenty of late night phone calls with amazing advice that could only come from a big sister. My only issue I ever had with her was that she was too far away, as she moved for college when I was in seventh grade. The best memories include singing and dancing to golden oldies in dad's truck that became hers, staying up late in her dorm dancing to Mariah Carey, and sitting and talking at the beaches where she's lived for hours. I admire her in so many ways, she quickly became another mother for me when my family was weak and I have probably never thanked her for that. Now she's an amazing mother of two boys and I feel like I can take credit for giving her some practice. 

Now, my middle sister is a completely different story. We have been on every level of the love-hate spectrum and even made up our own. Jose is something else, and I say that because I don't know how else to describe her. She's passionate, impulsive, wears her heart on her sleeve, lost, reckless and beautiful. Everyone knows that being the middle sibling is the tough spot so I can't imagine what that's like. As mentioned in a previous post, I learned all the fun stuff from her: dealing with boys (she's practically married now), throwing the best parties (many that we still talk about), the beginning of my interest in fashion (I now surpassed the master), and facing my fears (working on this one). Many people back home know every bit of drama that has gone on between us, but Jose and I have a bond that washes everything that we do wrong away. Not to mention, neither of us are living in Nebraska so we couldn't care less what people say. I don't think I learned forgiveness and patience from anyone else. Even better is that I'm now so proud of her. Growing up, I often felt like I was her older sister but now, she is one of my main supports now that I need it most. My breakdown when I first moved here resulted in me whining to my mom, "I'm just depressed because even Jose has it together more than meeeee."  We all laugh about this, but in all seriousness, it was probably a turning point in my relationship with Jose and that makes me incredibly happy and proud. 

A few weeks ago, both James and Jose were visiting Chicago for the weekend. Life has taken us in about every direction: married with two kids moving from place to place every three to four years, freaking Louisiana (totally random), and I somehow wandered to Chicago. By some miracle, the three of us were able to find a weekend that worked for all of us to be away from our lives (husband, work, friends, children, furry children). We spent the weekend eating, visiting museums and Chicago sites, and mostly just eating and drinking. As we're each ordering our own cocktail, I realized that we are completely different people. Our likes, interests, hobbies, values, everything. Physically, we don't look alike either. Both to the eye and deeper, of course there are similarities, but we are individuals. Like the psych nerd that I am, my mind continues to spin with the why's, how's, and what-the-fuck's, after this most recent trip. But after they were both gone from the first weekend the three of us girls have spent together, no children, no work, essentially no responsibilities, in probably ever, I knew that I am this unique person thanks to them. They've made a few mistakes, a lot of right choices, and everything in between that shaped me into who I am. For that, you can love or hate them, but it's true. 

These two, and the incredible Peggy that raised us, are the only people I can say know me. There are some honorable mentions for the best friend that hand-delivered me to Chicago, as well as the roomie and T&V. Anyone with sisters knows that there's no competition. There will always be something between us that no one else, not James' husband, Jose's hilarious coworkers, or my amazing friends, will live up to. These two women know things about me that, unless I truly piss one of them off, know one will ever know. They experienced the death of the same man, though we were all in vastly differing life stages, they get what it's like not to lose a father but to lose MY dad. These two understand things about me that no one has ever even tried to uncover. Fortunately for me, they know my neuroses, insecurities, and fears and I trust them to love me not in spite of them, but because of them. Individually, the three of us women are radiant but put us all together? Forces to be reckoned with. They are my best friends that I love unconditionally through the vast distances, arguments over borrowed flannel shirts, nights spent crying over a missing can opener (I wish this was a joke), and empathizing over the painful recounts of how many loads of laundry our mom washed that week. We're far apart, but I carry them with me every day.