This day devoted to love has had a very special meaning to me since 1968.

For years, when I got down on my knees to say my prayers (you know, “Now I lay me down to sleep…), I always ended with “and please bring me a little brother or sister.” Of course, I didn’t understand at the time that my mother was trying but couldn’t get pregnant, primarily because my birth was so difficult and caused a fair bit of damage. She never told me. I found out from her mother.

But that’s a different side of this tale. The most important part is the arrival of the ‘wild child’ two weeks before her due date when I was almost 9 years old. She barreled her way onto the scene, pushing a giant, metaphorical sphere of energy ahead of her and pulling another in like kind behind her. At one time, I didn’t mean ‘wild’ in the kindest of ways, but now I find her refreshing and entertaining, a hurricane that has blown in and out of my life for all of my life, if not previously so greatly appreciated.

Pat and I could not be more different if we were unrelated at all. No one could ever guess her age (58) because she still lives with the zest and enthusiasm of someone half her age. She is thin and fit, a size zero to my ‘larger’ one (which I will never reveal). She is career-driven, never married, no children, while I worked for a laughable salary to keep my family in health insurance. She has an accounting degree, a CPA with several other certifications. I have two degrees in English. She can do your taxes; I can help you understand Shakespeare. She volunteers tirelessly at the local animal shelter; I am just tired. For much of our lives, we have had little in common, and occasionally found it difficult to bridge our differences.

But in all that time, I have never lost sight of how precious she is. On this day dedicated to romantic love, I think of Frozen, and how Elsa’s true love was her sister, the unfailingly loyal Anna, recognizing that sisters share a bond they can never have with anyone else. And so we have come back to each other, sharing memories with each other that–more and more every year–no one else can share. Our parents. Our grandparents. Holidays. Weddings. Graduations.

I have to say that the strongest, unbreakable bond between us is the memory of our mother. It was her existence and care that kept us in touch through many difficult years, until now she is the angel smiling down on our friendship. The best role of sisters in each others lives is as the friends who have known you since the beginning (or close to the beginning) of your life. We know the source of each other’s inherent lunacy, and we understand why certain behaviors that seem crazy to others are unavoidable to us.

Happy Birthday, Little Sister! I’m so happy you were born!