"Read the board"

When they were little girls with skinned knees and pure hearts, they shared a bedroom and a cherry wood set of bunk beds. Barbies and their plastic accessories covered the floor like shrapnel after a sisterly feud. The Barbies and their accessories went into hiding when her 5th grade friends came over. She was too old for Barbies.

They had glow in the dark stars covering their ceiling and every now and then one would fall and get tangled up in the blankets they had with kittens and colored pencils screen printed on them. One morning she found one in her hair.

The older one slept on the top bunk because her legs were long enough to hoist herself up without a latter. And she was the oldest. And the bravest. (There was no guard rail). Sometimes after they had been tucked in by their parents, the younger one would ask the older one to sing to her. So she sang Mariah Carey, naturally.

Then, the little one would tell the big one that she loved her, in her sweet, little sister voice. Though the big sister loved her little sister very much, saying those three words was hard for her.
Saying those three words was impossible for her.
Saying those three words has continued to be difficult for her.

The big sister wrote on a marker board in their bedroom the words "I love you" and propped it up on a desk. Then, when the little sister told the big sister she loved her in her cute, little sister voice, the big sister said, "Read the board". The little one must have known, even at such a small age, that even though her big sister couldn't say those words out loud, she meant them.

Now a decade later, their knees have healed and their hearts aren't as pure, but they still tell each other "read the board". And even though those three words aren't THE three words, they mean as much.. if not more.

Read the board Al.