What I Should Have Done

I have a little sister called Lynne.

She has always been happy, hearty and sweet,

From her braids to her feet.

She was mostly having frivolity, festivity, fun,

I think not that’s

What I should have done.

When she was a toddler, Mom asked me to watch her.

I thought she was trying, toilsome, trouble.

She was forever shaking off her shirts, shorts, shoes.

What is a big sister to do?

That winter when she was one and the floor furnace was on,

She tarried, toddled, tripped, onto it,

And got burns on her feet.

“Weren’t you watching her,” Mom asked me,

So I was mad at Lynne.

I could have squeezed her into her shoes.

I could have found the clothes she tries to lose.

I could have swung her ‘round,

To keep her feet up off the ground.

I could have felt bad for her,

Instead of being mad at her.

But that’s

What I should have done.

A few years later coming home from school,

Such a day of math tests, spelling, and history.

Girls jeered, joked, and laughed at my glasses.

Lynne was under a tree having a party with real tea.

And I wistfully wished that were me,

But instead, I said, “What a baby!”

Inside, I wallowed in my homework.

I could have joined her party zoo.

After all, she had invited me to.

I could have had some warm tea,

With Lynne and her dolls and me,

Under that tree out of the sun.

And that’s

What I should have done.

So then I was so bored one day,

Pouting, peevish on the lawn praying,

For something, anything to do.

Lynne ripped, ran, rushed, up to me.

“Push me on my trike, Neesie!”

Her eyes glistened, glittered, glowed,

With her inviting smile.

“Go away,” I said, “I’m busy.”

I could have shared her joy.

I could have been her favorite toy.

I could have had some real diversion.

But that’s

What I should have done.

Lynne and our brother were playing Barbies and cars.

“Let’s pretend Barbie and her husband

are going on a trip,” Lynne said.

“Going camping,” my brother replied.

They built race-car roads over the couch and coffee table.

But I was trying to read a big boring book for school.

“You guys are silly, simple, and you’re in my way.”

And I left them there to play.

I could have joined the game.

Even if I thought it was lame.

Instead of making them shoo,

Barbie’s big sister could have gone too.

We could have smelled the pine

In the mountains for a time.

And played in the pretend sun.

And that’s

What I should have done.

She squealed, squawked, squinted with delight,

As she got closer to winning.

When she won the game by chance,

She threw up her hands and did a dance.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she yelled, yipped, yelped.

There I sat, unhappy, uneasy, unfortunate, and made.

“I’ll never play with YOU again!

You are such a bad winner.”

I could have been happy for her.

I could have remembered how many years

She had been trying to beat me with frustrated tears.

I could have danced the “yes, yes, yes”

dance with her some.

But that’s

What I should have done.

Are you lacking, looking, longing for a best friend?

One who will stay up late

And talk about love, life, and cookies?

One who knows what you like,

And know what you hate?

The unfound friend probably has the same address as yours.

Try to be careful, cautious, concerned with your sister.

Think through what you say.

It mega-matters.

Choose to have games, goals, good while there’s time,

So when you grow up you won’t find,

You have to look band and rerun,

Now that’s

What I should have done.

My sister is now my best friend and my confidant. She keeps me from over-reacting to things, she encourages me to fight for what is right and she cries with me when I am sad. When did she get to be so wise? I may never know. But I do know that I'm glad she is so forgiving of all the slights I gave her as children. I can't imagine my life without her. Sisters are so precious.