Sisters...

"More than Santa Claus, your sister knows when you've been bad and good."
~Linda Sunshine

This, as a sister of four, i can tell you is true. Its close to annoying how accurate they are in telling you the horrible truths about yourself that you know to be true, and yet, have denied so well.

My sisters have never held back or hesitated from pointing out all my mistakes, but the greatest thing I receive from their criticisms is their hidden advice and well concealed forgiveness. And though at that moment I may hate it, I love how they always know what I'm thinking.

I love how even if they are possibly the last person you want to be by your side, they are still there when you need them, never faltering.

Which makes it all the more difficult when i make a mistake. I burn myself inside when i think of the horrible mistakes I've made with them. I wish I could be as good a sister to them as they are to me.

Without thinking it through or listening to the hidden words in her voice, I blurt out something insensitive and selfish, and by the time I realize the true intent of her words its too late, and I've already rejected her, and there's no going back.

Apologies fall short, but again, she'll forgive me.

But I'll never forgive myself, for not being able to be there for her, as she was for me.

Being true to yourself...

I know of many people, myself included, who can only be truly real when they are with their loved one.

I suppose it takes another person to see who you really are before you can. Although I have noticed, when my true-self is unhappy, I can still be happy and laugh when I’m out with my friends, and I know for certain that some of my friends do it too. So, what does it mean? Are we temporarily happy, are we just faking it, does it lift our spirits to be around friends that understand you and enjoy your company or do we just phase in from one part of ourselves to another when we are around different people?

I'd like to think that spirits are lifted, and that happiness is contagious, but sometimes I see through my friend’s fake laughs and strained smiles and see a glimpse of their true-selves, and my heart goes out to them.

One thing I have learnt, is when you loose that loved one, the one person who can see you for what you really are, and who loved you all the same, it empties you. I've felt that emptiness, like looking into a mirror and seeing only blank, like an empty canvas in the darkness. And the one thing we always forget is that a blank canvas is an invitation to create a masterpiece.

But the most I can do now, for those who have lost, is provide a warm shoulder and an open invitation for a home cooked meal any time she wants.

Furrowed brows...

I love staring at people’s faces when they think no one’s looking. I love seeing their facial expressions change and mold into new ones as their thought process changes.

Of course staring at a strangers face for half an hour, however entertaining, may come off a bit odd, especially to those who may be watching you watching this random person.

Still, I like to think I can get a glimpse into their mind by watching this face language. For some, it’s like reading a book, especially when it comes to friends and family. I can almost hear exactly what my sister is thinking when I look at her.

On the way home from work yesterday, I realized I was doing it too. I had a really hard day and work and was extremely frustrated and stressed at how much was left for me to do the next morning; and my eyebrows were furrowed. Not from the protecting my eyes from the sun, I noticed, but from the feeling of annoyance radiating out of me. At the point when I realized that I was doing it, I stopped. This didn’t help. I didn’t loose my feelings of anger, more over I just got this unsatisfied feeling to go along with it. It was so unsatisfying to hide my feelings from the rest of the world that I just returned to furrowing my brows and radiating annoyance.

Hmmm… well… the feeling passed, but at least for that half an hour some strangers new how I felt.

Once upon a time....

...there was a girl that was the last of four sisters. Their family lived together in the small town of Ras Al Khaimah for many, many years until their father retired.

The family was separated by land, sea and time. Times were hard for the sisters. They moved into their own homes, and although they lived fairly close to one another, nothing came more prominent in their lives then their sudden independence.

What was clear to them now, more then anything else; it was time to grow up.