My brother, early in his teenage years, sat comfortably in the living room. On this dark evening he thought he was nestled in the safe and secure confines of our home. He had a view of both the front door and back sliding glass door. He assumed they were locked. His misperceived safety led to what would become the most threatening encounter ever to be experienced inside that home.

As my brother sat diligently focused on the homework in his lap, the backdoor slowly slid open without a sound. Not so silently, a figure broke through the shadows of the open door. The intruder came through backwards, intentionally hiding their identity. The helpless teenage boy let out an audible gasp of desperation. His schoolwork tumbled to the floor as his body collapsed submitting to the overwhelming fear.

The invader fully breached the home’s boundary with adrenaline filled breathing. At this moment my brother realized the burglar or murderer (who could know their intent) was not alone. This unscrupulous person continued laboriously backward toward this helpless boy. 

In an attempt to eliminate confusion, my brother’s full name is Adam Robert Hershey. The uninvited visitor turned around and Adam Robert Hershey was now face-to-face with his fate. Completely through the shadows and in plain view, now stood his older sister Julie and the big potted plant she pulled in from the deck, protecting it from the nearing frost. Adam was relieved, but mostly embarrassed to discover the threatening “Butt-First Bandit” was his harmless sister.

The reason I still laugh about this story is because my sister, Julie, could not be less threatening. Adam’s experience is a stark contradiction to the experience anyone has had interacting with Julie. She makes life better!

Julie continues to be the rare combination of smart and wise. She’s quick to think, analyze and consider. She’s slow to judge and critique. I consider myself a thinker like my sister, but she’s much better at it. I’ve seen her grow and learn from experiences without feeling a need to prove it to anyone. My approach is much different. I’ll let you know if I’ve learned something that you might find impressive—hence this 10 year old blog.

Legend has it that one of Julie’s first words was “calculator”. Well, she is the first born, and my parents tracked her every move, so that’s more likely fact than legend. I love this tidbit about her because the things she does go through careful calculation and discernment. Her baking follows the same rules, which is another major way she makes my life better! Those New Year’s Day brunches are a can’t miss, even if you’re sleepless and hungover. The only thing that goes against this standard of calculation is her choice of futbol fandom. She’s a Tottenham supporter and I can’t figure out why. I’ve read once that Tottenham fans have the ability to love well without expecting love in return. In this sample size of one, I’d say that’s true. 

She’s reliable and trustworthy with an unshakeable moral compass. We went to Sesame Place Themepark and my parents quietly asked Julie to tell the ride attendants that she was a year younger than her real age, allowing her to go on all the rides with Adam and me. I have to think this white lie still haunts her. Her loyalty was challenged by Sesame Street in another way too. Julie has always been a girl excited to read and learn. Sesame Street put out a book starring Grover titled There’s a Monster at the End of This Book. Every page brings Grover pleading with the reader, stacking bricks, playing clever mind games, doing whatever it takes to get the reader not to turn another page. This had to be a monumental inner struggle for Julie. I’d like to think she was never able to finish that book. Spoiler Alert: I’m here to tell you Julie, it turns out Grover is the Monster at the end of the book.   

I love my sister. That is all. Not, I love Julie because everyone’s supposed to love their sister. Or, I love my sister, but…

Just, I love my sister because she makes life better