The love between sisters...

Jane Austen described her sister as “a treasure, such a sister, such a friend as never can have been surpassed...the sun of my life, the gilder of every pleasure, the soother of every sorrow; I had not a thought concealed from her”.

She couldn’t have put it better.

Having a good sister is one of the greatest gifts in life: she is your best friend and most honest critic. A sister is a version of you that is so familiar it is comforting and yet, she is so different it is also liberating. She is the person you can always tell anything to, and she listens with her heart. She has shared your childhood memories and knows all your grown-up dreams, so hers is the advice to trust because her agenda is your happiness. It is your sister who believes in you, long after you stop believing in yourself.

Julia – my “Boodie” - is beautiful. She is beautiful to look at and beautiful by nature.  When we see each other we squeal and hug with so much delight. We still laugh uncontrollably about silly private jokes that are years old (at high pitch) and chat for hours and hours (her husband is delighted with the phone bill). We are fun, noisy and silly together, so much so, once my brother on military leave announced he was returning to war-torn Bosnia for some "peace and quiet".

We have had some fun - such as the drunken medieval banquet in a castle where we ran around the stairs flashing our stockings and suspenders - with our two boyfriends in close chase. (This game has a 50% success rate given he married her.) Then there was the time my Mum nearly crashed her car through laughing so much when she listened to the surprise tape cassette on which we had recorded our version of “Wuthering Heights”. Kate Bush had nothing on our ghostly wailing. We also worked out in a gym (ok, we stood around and giggled a lot) with players from Newcastle United, and genuinely not having a clue who they were, asked the nice man called Kevin why so many peope were hanging around outside.

We have shared some of most significant moments of our lives together. I whispered the facts of life to her behind a curtain. I was the one who told her our cherished dog Oscar had gone. I chose to be with her at our family home, and not at the hospital, the night our Mother died. I was walking behind her bursting with pride and happiness at her wedding. When I held her newborn daughter for the first time, I knew what it was like to feel so much protective love for someone you would be willing to die for them.

I am not sure how I could get through life without her and she has provided more joy with an extra fantastic brother (in law) and precious, adorable niece too. 

Bood: my counsellor, my pal, my defender, my cheerleader...MY beloved sister.