My sister is pretty freakin' cool.

I came to the sudden realization that my sister has played a more pivotal role in my life than I may have originally thought.

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This one started with a writing prompt.

I was brainstorming ideas, just tossing things around, and something about Hollywood Video came up.

Not because I spent a ton of time there, honestly. But because when I heard the name, something lit up in my brain.

It wasn’t about the store. It was about who I remembered in connection to it.

My sister.

She worked there in the early 2000s, back when the VHS was still pretty popular and DVDs were starting to be adopted across the board. And even though I didn’t live there like some kids did, the memory still hit me. Because she was there. And when she was there, I felt safe. That feeling wasn’t from the store, but from my sister.

And when I sat back and really thought about it, most of my happiest memories as a kid are ones my sister was present in. I have tons of good memories, don’t get me wrong, but the recall on what my sister and I have been through is sharper than the rest.

She made the biggest impact aside from, like… my mom (who I was pretty close with). She’s supported me through heartbreak, both the dramatic teenage kind and the quiet adult kind. Growing up, she was always the first person I called when something big happened.

Had a crush? Hour long phone call.

Nailed an interview? Texted her first.

Got an opportunity I was excited about? She knew before most people.

She really fostered a connection with me that I think a lot of people don’t get to have with an older sibling, especially with a ten-year age gap.

She didn’t treat me like a tagalong. She treated me like someone worth knowing.

She also, unfortunately, ends up in the crossfires of my "share a reel, say nothing” pipeline… but that’s a different story. LOL.

It got me thinking about all the little ways she showed up for me over the years.

The kind of things that probably felt insignificant to her, but stuck to me like glue.

Like marching around the coffee table, spelling her name out like a chant: K-R-I-S-T-E-N. We had makeshift batons, our own little parade. I was just a kid, but I remember it like it was yesterday.

Or the Barbies in her room. Her teaching me how to braid hair. How to pay attention to detail. How to care in ways that didn’t always look like “caring” from the outside.

She’s not some perfect, untouchable rock. None of us are. We all struggled. We all fought.

My sister had her battles.

But it’s how she made it through them that inspires me the most.

She beat cancer. Twice.

She kept going when it would’ve been easier to fall apart.

And somehow, she still made space for me to be weird and creative and loud and sensitive and me.

Side note- it’s sort of the same with my brother when it comes to resilience.

He hit what looked like (to me at least) rock bottom, but then built something steady and meaningful from it. He’s got this quiet strength now that I know makes our parents proud.

It makes me proud too.

And speaking of our parents…

Yeah, they were great parents.

They showed up, they provided, they respected us.

But when we fought, it was loud.

We’re a family that bottles things up until we can’t anymore. And we’re all slowly learning how to stop doing that.

There’s more love in the room these days. Especially when my brother and sister are home.

It’s unspoken, but it’s there. You can feel it. I didn’t know it then, but my sister was saving a part of me. The overwhelmed part. The lonely part.

The part that didn’t know how to ask for help. And she didn’t need me to. She just knew.

I still see her in my handwriting. In my work. In my voice. She’s an imperative part of who I am today. Even now.

So yeah, this post started with a throwaway idea about Hollywood Video. And it turned into this. A letter, I guess. A thank-you. A memory I wanted to hold in my hands again.

This one's for her. Even if it’s weird she’ll read it(Hi Kristen lol).

Even if she doesn’t think she did anything special.

She did.

And I wouldn’t be me without her.