Dear Jax,
Today is your last day before continuation, and I couldn't be more proud of you. I know that in the grand scheme of things, the transition to first grade isn't a huge deal, but I am so happy to watch you move ahead.
I was an only child for 10 years, and then you came along. I sometimes say that jokingly, vaguely remembering what it was like to not have a brother. I'll tell you right now that I wouldn't have it any other way. I waited anxiously for you to be born, becoming your first (and most frequent) visitor in the hospital. I was excited to change diapers, to feed you, to make you utter those wonderful baby chortles when I made funny noises. I didn't have any idea how good it would get.
Everyone thinks that their sibling is the funniest, kindest, most intelligent kid that they've met, but I know that mine is. You singlehandedly make me laugh every day, whether we're talking about who was on red that day or you're singing the wrong words to "Stressed Out." You make me see the good in the world when you leave me little notes, adorned with "Star Wars" pictures that tell me I'm the best sister ever. I guess it's only fair that I have the best brother, then. You are way smarter than anyone else at that age, and your math skills and knowledge about the world impress me all the time.
Some people say that half siblings aren't "real siblings." How wrong they are. Despite our age difference, I find myself wanting to FaceTime you every day, to see how your day was, to make me laugh when being in high school gets to be too much. You are my full sibling in every way, shape, and form, and the blood we do or don't share doesn't limit the love I have for you.
I know that I might not be the best sister all the time. There are some nights were you've asked me if, yet again, I'm watching Netflix. I don't make it to all your soccer games. Sometimes I put school first, but know this: you always, always come first. My brother comes before any other commitment.
Tomorrow, you'll put on your cap and gown, you'll sing your song, and then you'll be a first grader. I am so proud of you, Jackson Ivan. You are a magnificent little boy, and I am very lucky to be your sister. I hope that you can one day read this and know how loved you are, and how I never have and never will doubt you. I will be here for you for all your graduations, your big achievements, and the days that you'll look back on fondly. I only hope to be the best sister that I can be, since you are the best brother a girl could have.
I love you forever and ever, little dude. It's like the "Hold On" song (by Tom Waits) says, "I'm standing right here." I'll always be your sister, and I'll always be right here with you.
Love always,
Jordan.
