“The Thing About Sisters” by Emma Vaughn

When I was little, I never would have expected that you of all people would become my saving grace. I have never really been one to believe in God or grace or whatever it is. If I could make anything into a religion, I would make our relationship one. I honest to God think there were times growing up that I hated you. I don’t know if I ever knew what the word hate meant though. I think I wanted to be you or be just like you. You were always so smart, always made straight A’s. In elementary school you always made threes or fours on your end of grade tests. I remember we always got a prize after our EOG’s. I got a bag of Twix one time, I failed my EOGs, but she told me ,“You tried your best Emma, and that’s all that matters.” She was so proud of me for trying but she was proud of you for passing. It was different. You and I were so different growing up, but now I can’t think of a single person in the whole world who is more like myself than you. Caroline Elizabeth, you and mom have the same middle name. I used to get jealous that my middle name wasn’t Elizabeth. I wonder if you know that one day, I will be just like you. We are 20 and 22 now. Eighteen months apart from each other. People always said when we were little, we would love each other so much once we got older, we would be the bestest of friends and I never believed them. I mean, I obviously see their point now. They were right, without a doubt, you are my soulmate. My emotions are overflowing when it comes to you, or our mom. Sometimes I think about how our dad left us and the events leading up to it. I remember the exact night we went down to Nana’s house to start staying with mom. You knew what was going on, but I didn’t. Dad didn’t go down to her house with us, he stayed at home, and we went there on the weekends. I don’t know when that happened, maybe 5th or 6th grade. Looking back at it, I don’t really remember much. I remember my freshman year of college I had to go to therapy. She would ask me these questions about how I grew up and there is so much of our childhood that I have just blocked out, she tells me that it is probably repressed trauma. He doesn’t live around here anymore, he lives in another state, probably 6 hours from here. I am okay now, I used to not be. Anytime he decided to show up it would send me into a downward spiral into a long depression. I never knew how you were feeling though, you always seemed so strong, so quiet when it came to your emotions. I used to get mad at myself for not being in control like you were. Now I don’t think that you were in control. I think you repressed anything you felt, unless it was joy or happiness. I look back on young Caroline and my heart aches for you. My heart hurts knowing all the pain you kept inside your heart, and how hard it must have been being the strong one, taking care of your emotional wreck of a little sister.

Dear reader, Do you want to know the worst part about our dad leaving? When he does decide to show his face a year later and ask me to go eat dinner with him, and I tell him no, I feel guilty. The guilty conscience eats me up. Why am I the one who feels guilty when I haven’t heard from my own dad in 8 months if not more? “The phone works both ways,” “Won’t you text your poor daddy once in a while.” It’s bullshit, I know, but I can’t explain it. It literally makes me hate myself. Tell me why I have to reach out to my own dad to hear from him. A child should never have to be the one to reach out to the parent, it isn’t my responsibility to form a relationship with them. Especially if they are the ones who left. I know so many people need to hear this. The worst part too, is when people who have no clue how horribly he has affected me say things like “Well he is still your daddy.” I genuinely am left speechless. If you have never had a parent leave you, please keep your mouth shut. Sincerely, Grace29