A Bond Unbroken

We are both female.
We both have blue eyes and brown hair.
We have the same parents.
We grew up under the same roof.
We went to the same high school.
We both love dogs.
The similarities end there.

I'm the serene intellectual; she's the social know-it-all.
She's the jock; I'm the recreational athlete.
I'm a planner, she's spontaneous.
She thrives on chaos;I like cleanliness and order.
I'm an endorphin junkie; she likes her sleep.
She'll hold her ground and never back down;I hate conflict.


I've always been fascinated at the differences between my sister and I. Same sex siblings tend to fall into one of two categories: best friends or arch enemies. My sister and I are neither. We grew up differently, and we have a unique relationship.

I'm seven years older than her. I was in first grade when she was born. By the time she was in first grade, I was in Junior High. When my college friends hosted their siblings for the weekend, I stood by and watched- my heart aching that my sister couldn't be there too. Twelve year old + fraternity party+ alcohol+ boys= lawsuit waiting to happen.

My friends would always ask what it was like to have a sister so much younger than myself, but I never knew anything different. We didn't have much in common; we weren't into the same things. We existed in different worlds. She was playing dress up and I was going to formals. Don't get me wrong, I love her to death, but I always felt more like a mom than a sister to her. But then something happened- I didn't come home from college in between my junior and Senior year. And suddenly, our relationship changed.

She called me one Thursday afternoon in late June. She was giddy with excitement. "Kel. I think he likes me! He told J, who told A, who told me! Isn't that cool?" My heart melted. Her first crush. And she called me. Instantly, she grew up. She was no longer that little girl, she was a teenager. Despite our separation that summer, our relationship grew. We talked on the phone, she became my friend on facebook (yeah, that was weird), she asked me advice, etc.

That September she started high school. I vividly remember talking to her on the phone the night before school started and telling her that it would all work out. She wouldn't be late to class, she wouldn't get shoved into a locker, and she wouldn't sit alone in the cafeteria. I recalled my first day of high school and I remembered her sitting in the living room bay window waving as I walked down the driveway. Suddenly, my heart ached and I realized that I wouldn't be there to see her off.

When I was in high school, I used to go to all her soccer games. I enjoyed spending a few hours each weekend at the soccer fields watching her evolve from a amateur to jock; however, I only made one of her JV soccer games freshman year. The weekend that I graduated was the weekend of her Freshman Dinner Dance. She skipped the after party so my family could dive down to Philly fr my graduation festivities.

She turned sixteen that September. I had to work. I missed Christmas that December. I had to work. She called to tell me that it didn't feel Christmas without me. I wasn't there to hold her hand as we walked the steps to see what "Santa" left us. I wasn't there to sit next to her at church and giggle as the cantor reached a note that would break glass. I started to cry. Although I made it home the next day to celebrate, it wasn't the same. I thought she would be okay without me on a holiday (I hadn't been home for Easter in four years), but I was wrong.

Over the next two years, we grew closer and closer. The age gap seemed to narrow and although i still harbored motherly feelings, I felt more and more like a sister. I gave advice, I spoke from experience, I didn't judge. The first time she came to visit me in New York, without my parents, I showed her city life. She told me that she felt "so grown up", I told her, "Because you are."

Tonight is her first prom and no I won't be there. The date was changed, no one informed me, and I couldn't get the night off. I want her to know that I don't value my job more than my relationship with her. I want her to know that there's a piece of my heart there with her tonight, as always. We may be separated by distance, but the love is there and stronger than ever.

Colleen- You've become such a smart, wonderful, loving young woman...I'm so proud to call you my sister. I love you.

In Which I Try Something New

Hold your breath. I actually had a holiday off! Yes, you read that correctly. Nurse Kelly was nowhere near New York's big medical center. When I found out that I didn't have to work, I immediately phoned my family. Instead of my mother fussing over what my travel arrangements, she laid a shocker on me. She announced that her, my father, and my sister would be traveling to New York. My first thought was "Sweet!", my next thought was, "Holy Shit. HOWAMIGOINGTOCOOKATHANKSGIVINGDINNERINMYTINYTINYAPARTMENTKICHEN???? I think my mom sensed my apprehension because she quickly said, "and how about we go out to dinner? That would be lovely."

Shocked at my mothers suggestion, I agreed an quickly set out to find a reasonably priced Thanksgiving dinner. My search took about a week. Apparently, some people New Yorker's don't bat an eyelash at $109/per person prixe fix holiday dinners that do not include alcohol. I finally found a place with a varied menu costing only $55/per person for a three course meal. I made a 4:30pm dinner reservation, sat back, and then thought.....what am I going to do with my family all.day.long?

This issue continued to stress me out. Did I mention that my family was going to be staying in my apartment? Yes, my roommate was going home, but at $725 a night for a hotel, I was not about to kick my family out. My stress was exaggerated because preceding thanksgiving I worked 11 out of 15 days (uh, hunh not kidding).

Before I knew it, it was last Sunday and my mom was giving me all the details (sometimes I love having a mother who's as type A as me!) They would be arriving Wednesday afternoon, probably late because my sister was playing in the powder puff football game and they couldn't leave Boston until 11 and they were anticipating mucho traffic. My mom then suggested that we go see the balloons be blown up for the parade. So touristy, she and my dad both wanted to check out the Macy's Day Parade on Thanksgiving morning. We'd wing the rest of their visit. In my state of exhaustion, I just agreed and went about the week.

Before I knew it, it was Wednesday at 2pm and my family was buzzing my apartment. Wow! They made it in record time. I went down to help them bring in their stuff. My jaw almost hit the floor when they showed up: two jumbo suitcases, pillows, tools (I needed my dad's drill), gift bags, garment bags, etc. You would have though they were traveling overseas. I soon learned that one entire suitcase, plus one of the duffel bags was full of my sister’s clothes (oh to be 16). They came up and settled in. I must admit, I was having a mild anxiety attacked with their stuff everywhere, but I played it cool.

After catching up, we humored my mothered and headed off through the park to the west side to see the balloon inflation. Direction said to check them out between 77th-81st on Central Park West. Umm, so weren’t we surprised when we were looped up to 81st, across CPW to Columbus, across Columbus, down Columbus to 78th, back across Columbus, down to 77th only to realize that if we wanted to see the balloons we would essentially have to walk that same route AGAIN, except in the opposite direction on Central Park West. Oh the crowds! It was insane. Umm, at that point, we threw in the towel and decided to get something to eat. We were right at Isabella's so I tired to go in and check out the wait time. But I couldn’t get past the cop who told me the restaurant was booked until 10pm. And off we went down to 72nd so we could go back acorss the park. And we walked and walked and walked. My mom said a few times, “Kelly, where are we going? We are going in circles."

I really hadn't been paying attention, as we were talking all the way. Suddenly I noticed this LARGE, long building. And then I stopped, dead in my tracks, and laughed. We walked to the street corner "85th and 5th." Whoops. We had accidentally walked diagonally through the park up to 85th! At least we were back on the East Side!

Famished, we headed to a big Italian family style restaurant. We were seated promptly. We all needed a drink, so we ordered a pitcher of Sangria. Doesn't the waitress come back to the table, with our huge pitcher of yummy sangria, and say, "Four glasses, right?" My mom tried to prevent her jaw from hitting the floor. The waitress poured the four glasses and walked away. That's when Colleen, picked dup her glass and said, "Cheers!" She's sixteen! Not wanting to make a big deal my parents let her drink it, after all it was in a controlled environment, but it was just comical.

At this point it was time to order out food. Being the only vegetarian in my family, and this was a family style restaurant, I pretty much stayed out of the conversation and said all I wanted was some linguini and steamed broccoli. My family all agreed on chicken parmesan but for some reason my sister was putting up a fight over the veal. She lost the battle and my parents ordered a half size portion.

When the food came, there were lots of plates on the table. After some rearranging the veal parmesan ended up in front of my sister. I jokingly offered her some and she looked at me, dead serious and sad, "You know I don't like fish!"

My parents and I burst into laughter. My sister, the child prodigy seriously thought that veal was fish. After a good chuckle, we ate our meal and drank our sangria-all four of us.

It had been a long day, so we came home, put on our pajamas and lounged around. Sleeping arrangements were interesting. My sister and I slept on my roommates bed, my mom slept in my bed, my dad slept on the blow up aero bed. None of us slept well. It seemed like had just gone to bed when my dad pops his head in at 6:40 a.m. and announced that it was time to get up. We threw on clothes and headed off to the West Side to see the parade. We were at 72nd and CPW by 7:15 and the parade didn't begin until 9.

The streets were PACKED. People were pushing, shoving, yelling, moaning, and groaning. We ended up finding a spot behind a relatively open area, closed for CNN VIP's. We thought we hit the jackpot. Boy were we wrong. Turns out, this was also the spot to enter and exit the viewing stands for the porta-pottys. For the next two hours and all through the parade we were shoved, pushed, and untimely sandwiched in between two trash cans and six porta-pottys. We didn't even get to see Santa because they ushered us out of the area so they could clear the stands. We trekked home cold, but not defeated. Many of our friends texted us that they were looking for us on TV and asked us how the parade was live. We texted back to look for the porta-potty's and that the parade probably looked better in HDTV.

Walking home, we decided to stop and get breakfast and bring it back to my apartment. For most of the afternoon we lounged around. My sister napped and then we all showered and got ready for dinner. We decided to walk 30 blocks to the restaurant and worked up an appetite. Seated promptly, the meal was delicious from start to finish. We took a cab home. Then came what I dreaded most...a lull, with nothing to do.

We flipped back and forth on the television but nothing was appealing. It was only 6:45, but I put on my pajamas curled up on the couch and fell sound asleep. I woke up a few hours later and crawled into bed. The following morning I could smell fresh brewed coffee and freshly toasted bagels. I was quite impressed that my family finagled their way around my kitchen AND ventured outside to the bagel store. It was a bit comical when my dad opened the refrigerator to get cream for his coffee and all he saw was soymilk and opened up the sugar jar only to find splenda. Sorry dad. However, the best part of waking up was walking into my living room and seeing my little Christmas tree all decorated. It warmed my heart.

After my family showered, they packed up the car and left. I got a wee bit emotional but I know I’ll see them again in a month. Although this past Thanksgiving was different from any other holiday I've experienced, it was great to try something new.

It's The Little Things I Miss

This past weekend I went "home" for the first time in over six months! It's not that I don't love my family, but we all live such busy lives time seems to escape us. However, that is no excuse.

A part of the issue is me. I have never transitioned well and I need to feel settled. I always used to feel torn when I went "home." There was so much to do, so many people to see, I felt like I was tying up loose ends. But this time was different. As much as I hesitate to write this, I wasn't stressed because didn't feel like I was going home as an absentee member of my family. I knew I was going home as a beloved guest. I was going back to my hometown, but I wasn't torn up over doing it all.

Yes, Massachusetts is where I grew up, it's where my family lives, it's a place that will always be comforting and familiar, but now it's not my home. I haven't really lived there since 2003. They say home is where the heart is... my heart is in New York. It's where my job, my social life, and my friends live. I've built a new life for my self here. I feel truly blessed, I have the best of both worlds. An exciting city life, with a supportive, loving suburban family who welcomes me back as a guest with no expectations of permanence.

My mom had tears in her eyes when she picked me up at the train station.
My dad squeezed me and held an embrace when I first saw him.
My sister (the child who loathes family dinners) and I talked non stop for two hours over dinner Friday night.
My puppy dog whimpered and jumped onto my lap when he saw me.
We laughed, as a family, more than we have laughed in a long time.
And then my trip was over. Back to New York, back to reality.

My parents never thought I'd become a city girl, but they have shared in my joy as I've grown to love it. And they are the first to admit that they love the perks that come along with their oldest daughter living in the Big Apple.

To be fair, though, there are a few things that city life doesn't afford me. I captured them on film, and figured I'd share them with all of you....


Our golden retriever, Tyler...isn't he handsome?


All that greenery and landscaping my dad prides himself on...





Basking in the sun! (Without all the smog and urban noise)


What about you? What are the things that you miss about "home"?