Amanda

I’ve always thought of my cousin Amanda as the little sister my mother refused to give me when I was boy. My brother and I lobbied hard for a little sister for years but my mother, divorced and out of the baby-making business forever, always just laughed and told us that it just wasn’t going to happen.

Ever the dreamer, I wanted to be my little sister’s best friend and her favorite hero. I wanted to be there when she needed to cry and I wanted to be the one to glower at her perspective boyfriends and let them know that I knew what was on their minds (being a guy myself) and that they were wading into dangerous waters if they messed with my little sister that way.

My cousin Amanda, born almost 3 years after I was, kind of filled that void while we were growing up. She was sweet and self-effacing and a calming, guileless joy to be around (frankly most days I would have traded my troublesome brother…may he rest in peace…for Amanda in a heartbeat.) Amanda had two older brothers but my cousins never seemed to appreciate her as much as I thought they should.

She grew up, of course, and married a man she remains with to this day. Her firstborn daughter became, for a long tender season, the apple of my eye and found a place in my heart right next to her mother’s.

Time and distance separate me from Amanda but the feelings remain…warm and comforting and unlikely to ever fade away…my “little sister” has been a woman for a long while and still…and still…I hope that she knows she’s my little sister now and forever.