- The way, when a slice of birthday cake was gone, she would push all the remaining cake crumbs together on her plate, mash them down with the back of her fork then eat the pressed cake. I thought it was genius.
- I miss being secure in that knowledge that she truly had my back, no matter what.
- I miss our fights. Our fights were always brief and making up involved proclaiming our undying sister love and hugging and apologizing unselfconsciously.
- I miss watching her get ready to go out. There was always music playing and she would bust out dancing part way through getting dressed, usually in a lacy bra & Levis 501s.
- I miss dancing with her.
- I miss both of us getting ready to go out and breaking into some weird Glascock Sisters goofiness: standing side by side in front of our double sink in our bathroom, looking in the mirror into each other’s eyes and proclaiming in silly, high-pitched nasal voices, “Hi, we’re the Glascock Sisters!” and proceeding to talk about whatever came to mind, like we were an infomercial or something. For example, “Hi, we’re the Glascock Sisters, and we’re here to talk about…[look around bathroom for inspiration]…mascara!”
- I miss road trips with her.
- I miss creeping each other out, especially when we drove through a dark and wooded section of road, or when we were on our way to LA from Coronado and I was reading Stephen King’s short story “The Moving Finger” to her.
- I was always in her shadow, and I was mostly ok with that. But when we were with her friends, she treated me like I was the star, the one to be fawned over.
- I miss our secrets.
If you are in crisis, call 1-800-273-TALK (8255) National Suicide Prevention Lifeline