I spent 20 of my 25 years between the lines with my sister Sarah. From the beginning, number 4 and 5, me and Sarah, Sarah and Rachel, were stuck in the middle - we were stuck in the middle of a family of 8, stuck in the middle of the painted lines - the painted lines on the dirt, on the grass, on the wooden planks and on the green turf.
I spent 20 of my 25 years in between the painted lines, the painted lines that joined to form the structure of a house that became the foundation of a home - the home of two sisters, Sarah and Rachel, the home of two athletes.
We spent our childhood in between the painted lines building our home. And our home became more than home - it was a place of fierce competition, a battlefield of stubborn wills. Our home was a place of joy and fun; a playground of laughter and dreams.Our home was a place of peace and spirituality, a sanctuary of quiet prayer. And as we grew up, our home became our office, a place of work and diligence.
Home was more than home - it was a battlefield, a playground, a santuary, an office - but home was always home in between the painted lines with my sister Sarah.
And today, Sarah left home. She left our home between the painted lines forever. And when she drove away in her shiny black Murano, a part of me drove away with her. Home will never be the same without her.
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