On the first day of Thanksgiving break, everyone but me was enjoying the luxury of sleeping in. Instead, I was anxiously awaiting the arrival of my former sister, Jenny, at the airport. I say former because Jenny was the second of 40 foster sisters I’ve had over the last 12 years. The last time I saw Jenny was when I was 5 years old, and for the first time in 10 years, she spent Thanksgiving with us.

As I was waiting, a flood of emotions filled me. I was anxious to see her again, yet nervous about how we would hit it off after such a long time. Finally she arrived and I felt relieved. All the waiting would be over and I wouldn’t have to guess anymore about whether or not our weekend together would be as awkward as it was playing out to be in my mind.

During the car ride home, I began to relax as my dad and I caught up with Jenny. By the time we got back to my apartment, Jenny had already promised to take me to France and we were making plans to see Burlesque in theaters. That night we went shopping, bonding over our love for comfy pajama pants and hoodies. After that, we headed to Peachwave for some pumpkin pie frozen yogurt, which I refused to touch (I hate pumpkin pie).

The next day was Thanksgiving and I woke up to the smell of food, which my mom had been preparing since 5 AM. Since our whole family is back in Illinois, my dad invited a friend of ours and his son to join us for dinner. They arrived, pumpkin pie in hand, and we all sat down to eat together, Jenny beside me. After dinner, we began a game of Uno Spin, which quickly turned into an Uno tournament, bringing out the worst in all of us. I can still remember spending hours playing traditional Uno with Jenny and some of my other sisters. These memories brought back a need for revenge and I found myself using my best power cards to make sure I won the game instead of her. Many stare downs took place and I imagined music playing from an old western.

For about 10 years now, the day, after Thanksgiving is the day the Christmas tree is put up. When Jenny still lived with us, we bought real trees every year, and she had no problem grumbling about this change while she helped us prepare the tree for ornaments. I reminded her that when we did have real trees, she was always the one to water it and she fell silent, but a dirty look remained on her face as she helped us decorate.

Going through the decorations, we found a stocking that Jenny and I had made when we were younger. She smiled as my mom handed it to her and began to reminisce about what she remembered about Christmas with us. This prompted us to break out our old photo albums and I chimed in whenever she brought up something I could remember, like a baby doll her boyfriend had given me when I was five.

Though I thought this holiday break would be awkward, it was actually rather exciting. Spending time with Jenny was like seeing an old friend, which in a way, she was. Conversation came naturally and we both had a lot of common interests. I realize that blood only runs so deep in family. After all, I’m adopted. But I now know that though it had been many holidays since I’d last seen Jenny, nothing can break the bond we still shared.

By Hannah Strader