Sister, still?

What do you do when you spend a lifetime training for something, that you end up not needing? What am I supposed to do with 23 years, 10 months and 5 days of round the clock, sister training and practice? I feel like I can still claim the title of 'sister'.... I'll never stop being Ryan's sister, but... I just stop practical application of all the skills I acquired? I can't use them on my kids. I am their mom. I can't use them on my husband. I am his wife. 

I know that there is some great philosophical answer, about being a sister in God's family, but to cut down to the thick of it - I really don't have the time or the gumption to open myself up to so many people. I know, I am selfish. I stare at that harsh reality every morning in the mirror. I know that I am. I also know that God wired me just shy of introverted, and I have never made friends easily. I am blunt and to the point. And I'm a bigger pain in the butt than anyone who really knows me would admit out loud. Thank God I have ---had?--- a brother. I couldn't be bothered with picking one out myself, but the built-in buddy that God gave me, suited me just fine. I love Ryan.  

So where does that leave me now, besides alone? Sure, I'm friendly with enough people. And I can smile and shake hands with the best schmoozers. But where do I pour all my sisterly love and advice? 

I can't just 'adopt' a proxy, can I? Wouldn't someone think that's weird? "Hi, I'm Julie. I'm a pretty good sister - do you want one?"  Yeah, no. That's not ever going to happen. 

I miss what being a sister means. I miss being known. I miss the inside jokes. I miss the reminiscing. The hours upon hours of movie watching and line memorizing. I miss dreaming of having a sister-in-law and being an Auntie. I miss the security of knowing that someone who loves my kids almost as much as I do, would care for them if something were to happen to me. 

I miss the possibility of what my life could have been like, if I still had my brother on earth. I know that there is no time in Heaven, and that I am the only one of us (meaning Ryan and I) who is miserable - and that it's only temporary. I know these things, yet they provide me with no solace. 

So tonight, I'll have a little cry and grieve what could have been, say a prayer, and look forward to whatever tomorrow holds.

Thanks for reading.

--Julie--