no contest...

uncle sugar and i had a bit of a contest last night.

now. i am an utter fool to enter into any sort of contest with that man. he loves to win. he never quits. he is incredibly competitive. rather vindictive. taunt-ish. add his cheat-ish delusional quirk that i find ever-so-attractive, and you might understand.

he was performing his nightly sit-up routine - as i lounged lazily next to him - when the girlies three rushed us. it was grae who asked, and i'm dead-certain of this detail because she's the only one of our three who concerns herself with comparisons.

who's stronger? you or dad?

which is exactly how uncle sugar and i happened to spend more than fifteen minutes with lillie and grae hoisted on our feet à la airplanes. up down up down up down.

at some point during that fifteen, i looked at my legs and felt no small sense of pride at how well they were winning. i mean, working. it flew me to a faraway moment i shared with my sister when she was still alive.

she told me i was looking thin. this was just a few days after esmé was born, and probably even a few minutes after my mid-morning snack, but i believed her. because she was magic like that. she'd see a glimpse of beauty and magnify it. shine her spotlight smile on you, and before you even knew it, you were centre stage. even better? you felt like you belonged there. amazing.

but remember, she said. it's not important to be thin. you want to be strong...just in case you need to fight.

this was the last real moment she and i would share. my sister was two weeks from her ending. maybe a few hours from hospice, if you can imagine. i don't remember those details as well as i remember how her words made me feel. stunning. invincible. perfect. i stand taller even all these years later when i remember how she looked at me. how she saw me. how she made me see myself.

i remember how she looked to me. stunning. invincible. perfect. i'd never seen such beauty, and i maybe never will again in my lifetime. she was kind and generous and loved nothing more than filling a room with laughter. hers and yours. she looked around the world with sheer joy, and honestly got a kick out of everyone walking around in it. i miss her like crazy.

i won't tell you i won last night. uncle sugar would lie and tell you differently, anyway. but it's funny. i realized that memories of my sister don't really make me sad anymore. i mean, they do. i miss her like i imagine i'd miss air. and some memories are like sharp jabs to my ribs. but. i think of her and feel strong. and i will tell you it's good to feel strong.

{this morning, i mentioned to uncle sugar that my legs felt a little...worked. not sore. worked. his, no surprise, did not. he swaggered out of the house, and i watched him walk to his car. and i think i saw him limp a little. i won.}

i seriously begin and end my day with mary ruffle. but it's no surprise she found these gorgeous pages on little alouette first. i adore them both, don't you?