My 'baby' sister is my rock

My "baby" sister turned 21 this week, and I must admit this makes me feel old. (Even though my co-workers constantly pick on me for being the young one in the office.)

Crystal and I have had our differences over the years, but in adulthood she has become my rock in the most difficult times.

I honestly thought she was evil for a time when we were growing up, stemming from an incident when she backed me into a closet with a pair of scissors.

I had my finger sliced in that back closet as she came after me with the scissors when she was about 7-years-old.

I remember her begging me not to tell mom and dad after she did it. It wasn't until about 15 years later we shared that story with our parents.

Of course, her first sentence was "Baby, attitude," copying my father's remark that she was a baby with an attitude.

Mom and dad have always told us I tricked them. I was a good baby -- always sleeping through the night and crying very little.

Since I was such a great baby they decided it was time for another child, and they got Crystal. The child who refused to sleep and was a crying terror.

But, I'm glad they were blessed with the carbon copy attitude of my dad. They definitely got their payback from the stories I heard from my grandparents.

Out of that attitude came the sister who has always stood up for me when I didn't have the capability to stand my ground.

In recent weeks I had an issue with a company taking money from my bank account, therein causing an unexpected overdraft fee. I knew there was no way the issue would be resolved, so I sent my sister a text that morning in a panic.

By the time my meeting was over that morning, I had a message back from my sister saying she had to get an attitude with the lady, but the issue was resolved and the money was back in my account.

I laughed so hard as she recounted the story of arguing with the customer service woman. It also helps we sound a lot alike on the phone.

Our favorite past-time when growing up -- and still is -- was confusing dad on the phone. He would call the house or call our cell phones and we would pretend to be the other. Eventually he would catch on and get aggravated. It's always entertaining.

My poor sister had the privilege of following me throughout the course of school, almost always ending up with my former teachers. They never called her by the correct name. She would get so angry when they would call on Sabrina, and the rest of her classmates would be looking around in confusion.

We are polar opposites. I was the quiet, reserved student who was always on top of my homework assignments.

Those teachers saw the similarities in our facial features and the last name of Westfall. They expected the same from her. Boy, were they in for a surprise. My sister can talk like it's her job!

When my sister and I are together I worry about people around us if they hear our conversations. We can have the most random conversation --the other completely understanding -- and really not say anything at all.

In the last decade I have been battling Trichotillomania, as I mentioned in a former column. If it wasn't for my sister I don't know if I would have ever been able to be comfortable in my own skin.

My sister is a cosmetologist, and has used her knowledge of hair to keep me feeling good about myself even on my worst days.

I have never been able to visit a beauty salon in fear of someone noticing the lack of hair on my scalp, and she has spent many nights in our kitchen cutting, dying and curling to make me feel beautiful when I felt horrible about myself.

I would be lost without my sister, and I'm thankful I inadvertently tricked my parents into having my baby sister.

She has the ability to drive me to my wits end, but keep me sane all at the same time. Love you, sister.

Sabrina is a staff writer for the Greene County Daily World. She can be reached by email at swestfall@gcdailyworld.com or by telephone at 847-4487.