July 14th is when you decided to enter the world,
to make me the eldest girl.
Your first name was that of someone who passed;
your second name, Jo was to remind you of our Texas, southern roots.

I can’t remember if you cried a lot,
if you had hair,
if you smiled a lot.
I was only two,
when you made our home a two-child zoo.

You and I,
we had a hard time meeting eye to eye.
We drew the line in our sandbox;
each refusing to cross.
You had your lot and I had my lot;
oh, how our differences were false.

With each year the line started to disappear.
We started to glance at one another,
never holding the glance too long,
as to show our independence.
The smiles made the hurt gone.

Now, at 29 and 30,
we hold each other’s glances.
Our eyes meet;
we smile and laugh.
We each take our seats
At the same table.

July 14th is when you decided to enter the world,
to make me the eldest girl.

And, for that, I thank you.
Thank you, Vanessa!

Hugs and Smiles,

Nicole