My sister turns 55 today. How can that be? I mean, come on, I can recall what she looked like and who she was when she was 12. My sister is a fine speciman of health and fitness and models to me and other 50-something folks, especially women folk, how to live an energetic and vibrant life style. She works out at the gym 6-7 days per week, while working a 6-day work week. My sister learned how to ride a bike later in life, just like me, but unlike me, she rides both on the numerous bike trails here in the Sometimes UnFrozen North Land and off road on mountain bikes. She has run several marathons, including the Bay to Breakers and the Mayor’s Midnight Marathon in the Land Where the Sun Seldom Sets in the Summer. My sister can drop and do countless push-ups – the old-fashioned real kind – she can do numerous chin-ups, and has starred in one of the original ab workout videos.

Growing up being the “adopted Korean girls,” in a sea of White faces, we were often asked, “are you two real sisters, like in blood sisters or are you adopted sisters?” In fact, if I had a quarter for every time we were asked a variation of that question, well, there would be quite a few folks missing their silver coins. As we grew older, we would answer something like this, “well, we grew up together like sisters so we feel like sisters.”

Truth is, my sister and I could not be more different if we tried. But that doesn’t matter when it comes to being sisters. We can, and do, aggravate the ever-living-bejesus out of each other – hey what are sisters for? We can also be there for each other in times of need. Mostly though, we are sisters. True and real sisters. To the bone. To the end.

For sure, we are one another’s childhood historians. Without my sister, my childhood, my life would not be mine. I love my sister. She is the for real deal in sisterhood terminology. Happy Birth Day Sister ~

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