Day 14 - write about a song that you associate closely with a specific moment
It bears mentioning that I am probably the least musical in my family. My dad is a walking iPod and we joke that he knows not only the song title and band name, but also the names of each of the band members and what each of them died from. I've been putting this post off because, while I enjoy music and have many songs that are sentimental to me, I was having a hard time truly answering the prompt.
However, the song I can't seem to get out of my head whenever I think of this prompt is "Me and You" by Kenny Chesney. This song starts, "Ordinary? No, really don't think so, not a love this true..." It's certainly written to be romantic, but for me, there is only one person I think of anytime this song comes on - my sister. If you've known me for a while, you've heard about her and you know my typical intro (if I feel like explaining): Sarah, my sister - you have to understand, she's not biologically mine and we haven't legally adopted her, but she's just as much my sister anyway. Sometimes I'll go into the story if it seems relevant of how she ended up joining our family, sometimes not, but I realized the other day when someone asked me if I was the oldest of my siblings and I launched into a brief but sort of convoluted explanation that I was a firstborn but not technically the oldest (leaving them a little dumbfounded and questioning my logic) that I realized again how deep that affection goes.
You see, my (technically) older sister is also my twin, even though I'm a brunette with brown eyes and she's a blonde, blue-eyed beauty. When she moved in with us one spring ten years ago, I thought - or at least hoped - that maybe I'd get a good friend out of the experience. As time went on, we moved into BFF status, enjoying a suite bedroom that was basically an every night sleepover, road tripping to one another's universities, and baking until we drove Mom up the wall. We have lots of great memories and stories, from being crossword sidekicks, grammar Nazis, and fashion commentators, to using 50 pounds of flour in one summer, to baking pies together over Skype. We have spent hours and days and years talking about all of life, from boys to car repairs. We have shared hopes and dreams, heartbreak and tears.
It wasn't until we had fought and cried and argued and comforted and stayed up late and reconciled and loved through the hard over and over again, that we moved into the sister zone. But what I've realized over the last decade is that love does that - love hangs on in the good times and bad; love hangs on when you wish you could save people from themselves, love hangs on when you celebrate every victory, love hangs on when you live a half a world away; in short, love never lets go. Like the end of the song says: "Ordinary? No, really don't think so, just a precious few ever make it last, get as lucky as me and you."
It bears mentioning that I am probably the least musical in my family. My dad is a walking iPod and we joke that he knows not only the song title and band name, but also the names of each of the band members and what each of them died from. I've been putting this post off because, while I enjoy music and have many songs that are sentimental to me, I was having a hard time truly answering the prompt.
However, the song I can't seem to get out of my head whenever I think of this prompt is "Me and You" by Kenny Chesney. This song starts, "Ordinary? No, really don't think so, not a love this true..." It's certainly written to be romantic, but for me, there is only one person I think of anytime this song comes on - my sister. If you've known me for a while, you've heard about her and you know my typical intro (if I feel like explaining): Sarah, my sister - you have to understand, she's not biologically mine and we haven't legally adopted her, but she's just as much my sister anyway. Sometimes I'll go into the story if it seems relevant of how she ended up joining our family, sometimes not, but I realized the other day when someone asked me if I was the oldest of my siblings and I launched into a brief but sort of convoluted explanation that I was a firstborn but not technically the oldest (leaving them a little dumbfounded and questioning my logic) that I realized again how deep that affection goes.
You see, my (technically) older sister is also my twin, even though I'm a brunette with brown eyes and she's a blonde, blue-eyed beauty. When she moved in with us one spring ten years ago, I thought - or at least hoped - that maybe I'd get a good friend out of the experience. As time went on, we moved into BFF status, enjoying a suite bedroom that was basically an every night sleepover, road tripping to one another's universities, and baking until we drove Mom up the wall. We have lots of great memories and stories, from being crossword sidekicks, grammar Nazis, and fashion commentators, to using 50 pounds of flour in one summer, to baking pies together over Skype. We have spent hours and days and years talking about all of life, from boys to car repairs. We have shared hopes and dreams, heartbreak and tears.
It wasn't until we had fought and cried and argued and comforted and stayed up late and reconciled and loved through the hard over and over again, that we moved into the sister zone. But what I've realized over the last decade is that love does that - love hangs on in the good times and bad; love hangs on when you wish you could save people from themselves, love hangs on when you celebrate every victory, love hangs on when you live a half a world away; in short, love never lets go. Like the end of the song says: "Ordinary? No, really don't think so, just a precious few ever make it last, get as lucky as me and you."
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