The following is a guest post by Sarah Weaver
“We should order pizza.”
We were in Montana on the side of I-90. Waiting for a tow truck. In the snow.
“I don’t think they deliver pizza to the side of interstate,” I said.
“We won’t know until we call,” my sister said.
To my sister Melissa, everything was an adventure. Car breaks down? Opportunity to see if we can get pizza delivered roadside. While I watched from the car, my sister hopped a fence and met the pizza guy in a random field. Nothing tastes as good as a hot pizza when you’re waiting for a tow truck in the snow.
Melissa was the one who taught me how to see the world, in the way only an older sibling can. She taught me to make cookie dough. To use my imagination. To catch a fish.