For My Sister

I remember when I first met her. She was this shy 15yr old girl in overalls. Looking very bored, but with a quiet, intense look in her eyes. She had come with her mother to our hula class, and sat with her sister on the bleachers in the gym. I had no idea at that point what a huge influence and positive affect she would have on my life. It’s funny how life’s tide can bring the most wonderful unexpected surprises to your shore.

This girl with this quiet confidence had entered my life in the most unusual way. Her mother belonged to our halau, and was friends with my sister and I. At first our exposure to one another was limited at best. We would go to her home to practice hula and socialize. She seemed to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders at times. It made you want to reach out and try to ease whatever burden it was that she carried.

The first time I saw this young girl dance, I remember being taken aback by the sheer beauty she communicated. She danced with such feeling and grace that I almost felt envy as she easily performed the hulas I struggled so hard to get through. There was something about her. Something in her aura that let you know there was more to her than meets the eye. There was also something else about her that was always just under the surface. Something so palpable was present in her that you couldn’t help but feel it. She radiated such strength and beauty that I don’t even think she knew she had.

It seemed almost seamless to me how she became a part of my life. She would be at my sister’s house just hanging out. She was with us at family gatherings like she had always belonged there. She was, unbeknownst to us, a missing part to our family puzzle. She became the daughter and best friend my sister had spent so many nights praying for. The loving and caring daughter my parents needed to round out their brood. She even became the little sister my brother and I never knew we so badly wanted. She was another loving, doting aunt to our nieces and nephews. This young woman, no longer a girl, was ours. She was now an integral part of our family. She completed us all.

Elisabeth Ku’ulei Baetz, my sister. She is my voice of reason when I have no reason left. She is my strength when I am weakest. She is the light in my day when I’m stuck in the dark. She is there to lend me her support even when I am insistent that I don’t need or want it.  She makes me laugh, cry, angry, and happy; as a little sister does. Her mere presence in my life makes me feel blessed beyond all reason. She is beautiful, intelligent, mature beyond her years, loving, caring, giving, and all those amazing virtues anyone would want a daughter, sister, niece, aunt, friend, and loved one to have.

Liz, that quiet little girl that I met so many years ago, has meant more to me, in my life, than so many so called “somebody’s.” If there was a way for me to take all the pain, all the disappointments, all the struggles that she may go through in her life, and bear them myself I would. I thank God everyday for bringing her into our life. Today is her 29^th birthday, and I pray that this is her best year yet. I hope God blesses her the way she has blessed me. I’m not the best at expressing my feelings, but I hope she knows how much I love her, how much she means to me, how proud I am of her, and how honored I am to call her my sister. Happy Birthday, Liz!