I was sad because I felt she just couldn't understand. I wished at that moment that she could come with me, but I knew she wouldn't.
I checked in, took my seat and started to get organized. I glanced inside my bag which my sister had loaded in the trunk before we left for the airport. There, along with my passport, traveler's checks and other important items, was a small white envelope with "Kath" written on it in my sister's handwriting. I opened the envelope and found a bon voyage card. It was a lighthearted, funny card with a cartoon on the front. Most cards my family members give are funny cards, and this was no different—or so I thought.
When I opened the card and read what was inside, I realized that my sister—who I had decided just couldn't understand—actually did understand. It seemed there was a small part of her that wished she were me, maybe a small part of her that always had wished she were me. The card was blank except for what my sister had written:
I really admire you for experiencing life in such a full way.
I love you.
Your sister,
Kristy