Love Letter to My Sisters

Today is Valentine's Day, so I thought I'd write a love letter to my sisters – the people I've shared my whole life with, hope to share many more years with, and love endlessly.

What makes sisters so special?
They are the only ones in the world who have experienced exactly what I have experienced – the good, the bad, and the ugly. Our childhood summers on my grandparents’ farm remain vivid in my memory: making mud pies for our imaginary shop, spending hours tending sheep with our grandfather, hiding our little misdeeds, and racing up and down the country roads on a city bike. Every evening ended with fried eggs or grandma’s bread and tomato, and every summer ended with silent tears in the car as our mother drove us home to go back to school in September. And so many more stories and memories over nearly 30 years of life.

Not only that. Sisters force you to become a better person. It’s your choice to stick around, of course, but if you do, if you take the time to understand others’ motivations and explain your own, the relationships will get better and better, and you’ll become a better person along the way. Watching my sisters grow into strong, compassionate women fills me with indescribable pride.

What a privilege to be able to share not only our past, but our present and future through our farm project. Sometimes I get carried away when things don’t work out, when problems pile up. I catch myself dreaming of a day when our farm will run smoothly and we will have everything under control. But in moments of deeper reflection, I realize that none of this really matters. Our farm existed before us and will continue after we are gone. I love it deeply – not for what it is or what it will be, but because it binds us together and gives us a common purpose. For me personally, I hope this journey continues to make me a better person and help others live better lives for a long time. 

This Valentine's Day, my wish is simple: to spend many more days working with my sisters - picking olives in the rain, tending the garden at sunset, organizing events, or selling chickpeas at the market. It doesn't matter what we do, as long as we are together.

"Always keep this in mind, Ithaca.
Your goal is to land there.
But don't rush the journey.
Better that it lasts for many years;
and that now old he docks at the island,
rich in what you earned along the way,
without expecting riches from Ithaca.
Ithaca has given you the beautiful journey.
You wouldn't have left without her.
He has nothing more to give you.
And if you find it poor, Ithaca will not have disappointed you for that.
You have become so knowledgeable and wise,
you will have understood what Ithaca means.
— Ithaca , Costantino Kavafis