Essay about My Sister And I Have A Routine

1051 Words Oct 28th, 2014 null Page
My sister and I have a routine we do each night when I put her to bed. First we’ll read a book, it’s the usual cardboard baby book that’s filled with pictures. I’ll sit on the rocking footstool and read. The pictures face her and from my perspective the letters appear upside down, it’s irritating when b’s look like p’s, d’s look like q’s, and vise versa. After a good two minutes of reading I’ll get up to turn off the light, then make my way back to her. What I do next is what my great-grandma used to do to help me fall asleep. I began to trace my finger on her face, whisper gently about it being a car on a road trip across her visage, starting out at the at the soft ground beneath her eyes, up the hill of her nose, and finally to the forest of her hair. Then I’ll faintly tell her “goodnight.”
I first met my sister at the Native Hospital Intensive Care Nursery. She was a preemie, small, and in an incubator. But at the time she wasn’t my sister, she was my cousin, the daughter of my aunt. I fell in love with her instantly the first time I held her, I have no idea how or why, but it happened. After a while my aunt stopped visiting her, doing whatever she wanted, until my mom told her to go back to the village for her own safety and sign over power of attorney so that my mom could visit her child at the hospital. I visited her a lot while she was at the Native Hospital and tried to convince my mom that we should adopt her. My mom visited almost every day yet no matter how much…

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