Of Rehearsal Dinners and the Coming Weekend

Last night was my younger (and only) sister's Rehearsal Dinner. She is getting married tomorrow afternoon.

Anyone who knows me, knows I'm quick to extoll her many virtues. She is, quite literally, the most important person in the world to me. But if familiarity doesn't always breed contempt, it can sometimes cloud our vision. In the day-to-day routine, my sense of who my sister is, is often clouded by my memories of who she was: my recollections of her as a little girl, a chunky adolescent, a shy teen.

Last evening I stood in the front pew of our childhood church and watched my sister and her husband-to-be prepare for tomorrow's ceremony. As I watched them rehearse exchanging vows, the thought popped into my head: my little sister is grown-up. Despite all the years and milestones and graduations (three - she's very edumacated), she had always been my littlesister - someone to advise, to protect, to look after. And now she was taking a step into the unknown, a step that will change her life forever - a step that big brother hadn't taken before her. All. Grown. Up.

And for a brief moment, the curtain lifted and the familiarity vanished and I saw her as others do - as strangers must when they pass her on the street - as new acquaintances must when they're first introduced to her. As someone who hasn't known her all her life must see her.

A poised and elegant young lady. Strong and vulnerable. Confident and scared.

No words can express how proud I am to be her older brother