by Brad Closson
I didn’t have any sisters growing up. Two brothers on either side of me, but no sisters. My cousin Julie was the closest thing to a sister that I had. She was the youngest in her family, so it was great for her to be the “older” sibling when she was around my brother Jeff and I. She was three years older than I was, which means she was actually about 10 years older in maturity most of the time. She was smart and sassy. She could be very sarcastic yet hilariously funny. She and I spent a lot of time playing together, and fighting each other. I don’t think I ever won, even once. She was strong enough to whip me in wrestling and sly enough to make me cry with words. (Scott had his hands full.)
Once she was in college and I was in High School, our relationship smoothed out. We both became young adults, so we didn’t need to fight with each other anymore. (Though an argument here and there was still in play.) Julie was a beautiful smart woman. I wish we would have had more time together as adults. Goodness knows, I could have used more sisterly advice and mentoring.
My favorite memory was the alfalfa pyramid that my Dad made for all of us one year. We had the best time climbing on it and jumping off into a few broken bales. It is one of my favorite pictures and memories of my whole childhood with Scott and Julie.