My dearest cousin.
When it comes to telling the story of my life, whom would I trust to tell it more than you? No one else has your window into my life. You know me in a way no other person on this planet could know me. You know me because I chose to share my story, my self with you in ways I couldn't with other people. I may have been the firstborn on my mom's side, but you were always the older sister I needed. More times than I can properly express my gratitude for, you've carried the light for me. The times when I was most surrounded by darkness, most afraid and uncertain, you carried my light.
After I flew to St. Louis to be judged by an unfeeling committee of twelve high-powered doctors, just to hear them tell me all the reasons I should doubt myself and my dreams, I called you first.When my dad inexplicably exploded in misplaced rage, attacking my very personhood and dignity, I called you first.When woman after woman with whom I thought I could possibly, just maybe, build a life with told me they had other plans, I called you first.
Trust is such a strange and fickle thing, that it can take a lifetime to build and still be lost in a second. Blessed are you, Santhi: you who are so worthy of trust.
You mean so much to me, I find it hard to imagine where I would be without you. You are my shelter in the storm. Both my sister and my friend, and somehow more than both.
Thank you.
With deepest love on your birthday,
Jerin
