Stacey has been sick. I remember her coughing at the Halloween party, so she has been sick for almost two months now. She coughed through our entire trip to Las Vegas last month. She coughed through our Sub-For-Santa shopping last Sunday. She coughed when I talked to her on the phone today.

There is something about her coughing that brings me back to our childhood. She coughed all through our childhood. I used to be able to find her in a crowd by the sound of her cough. Her coughing now sounds exactly as it did when we were children. Her voice may have changed when we grew up, but her coughing hasn’t.

When I hear her cough, it stirs a childhood protection in me. I’m the older sister. I’m supposed to watch over her. I’m supposed to boss her around. We lost her and Dan in J.C. Penney’s on Sunday and I heard her cough from across the store. I was able to tell which department of the store they were in solely by ONE cough heard from yards away.

I feel like I should be worried because this cold has clung to her lungs and throat for so long, but instead, I feel like I did when we were children. Every time she coughs, it feels like I’m a child again. Grandma and Grandpa are still alive. We still live at home. Mom still protects us from Dad. The worst thing we can imagine is elementary school drama. And Christmas is coming…