This is my sister.
In this photo, shot three days ago, my sister is seven months pregnant.
Isn’t she gorgeous?
I spent the weekend with my sister and her partner, who, thank the gods of sibling protection, is wonderful. This is not something I take lightly, as there have been, in the past, some unsavory people I wanted to punch directly in the nuts.
Luckily, I really, really dig this guy.
I met my sister when I was seven and she was two-and-a-half. We both were adopted from Korea, but we did not come from the same womb. Otherwise, we’re like most sisters. We shared a home, a family, we fought over stupid stuff, we annoyed each other, we comforted each other and we definitely have each other’s back.
This is also not something I take lightly.
When we brought my sister home from the airport, she slept for two straight days. When she woke up, she immediately demanded food.
Ah, I thought. I like her.
My sister came from Korea with remnants of a language, bits of song that my mother scrambled to capture on cassette tape, and memories that are for her alone.
Our lives together as sisters read like a map in progress. We continue to get to know each other, to find each other out.
My sister’s first pregnancy happened in a blur. My nephew was born and we realized we’d only gotten one photo of my sister while pregnant. ONE.
Three days ago, I took over 450 photos of my sister, pregnant, and stunningly beautiful.