Heather Feather...

I am thinking about my older sister nearest in age to me today. As I sit and drink coffee and eat my Ezekiel bread, I think about her... Let me introduce you to her, if you don't know her already.

Heather Feather, Mary Marie McGrail. Okay, so her given name is Heather Mary McGrail, the others are a few nicknames she's received along the way. Heather is 4 years older than me. She has her masters in English, with quite a concentration in linguistics, literature, and an unnatural eye and ear for grammar. She thinks about a PhD, but isn't there yet. She has lived in Iowa, NY, Missouri, NJ, Illinois, Minnesota, Indiana, Oregon for a summer, and now South Korea. She has written two novels, but hasn't let anyone read either, grrrrrranimals. She did let me, many years ago, read one of her short stories, and I will always remember it; it was memorable for a couple of reasons: I'm not going to lie, it was a bit morbid, but even more so, it read like something I would read in my AP English class in high school. She has a way with words, not in a snobby way, though sometimes I do feel the pressure to use really big words around her, and occasionally I need a dictionary to translate her sentences, but in that way that if someone were to narrate your life, she could do it better than you.

She notices things around her in a way that I do not. She sees things in people that I do not see. I think it's the artist in her; yeah, did I mention she also an artist? She can draw and paint, she's done ridiculously amazing things with beads. If any of you are ever in our apartment, she did the pencil drawing of the curly-haired guy in our office.

And now she is in South Korea. She had tossed around the idea of teaching overseas for a little while, and then one day, just decided to do it. After some snags along the way, South Korea it was. She's been there since the middle of August, and I think of her whenever I call "home" on my cell phone because "Heather" comes right before "home."

Heather is a bit of a home body; she's a caregiver and a taker-carer. Because of this, I think she's missing home a bit more than usual right now. This is one of my favorite qualities of my sister: she knows how to completely care for you. The best way to explain this to you is with a little anecdote:

When I was working with the church up in Duluth, and I feel like I've told this story before, but stick with me. I had the brilliant idea to borrow my parent's RV and take a bunch of the high school juniors and seniors on a college-hunting trip. But we wouldn't waste our time on any colleges that were close enough for them to visit with their parents, no we would go to Chicago, a couple of places in Michigan, and one in Indiana. We hit five colleges in three states in about 48 hours before we headed to my parents' in Indianapolis for a night's rest before trucking back to Duluth, a mere 11 hours away. Oh yeah, and I was the only "adult" and driver with about half a dozen students. By the time we hit Mom and Dad's, I was pooped, to say the least. Mom and Dad were gone, somewhere, but Heather met us there, in the driveway, had snacks and soda out for the gang, had places for everyone to sleep, had a cozy fire going in the fireplace, and just took over. At heart, I really am an introvert, and I was drained; Heather seemed to just know that. She told the gang where to go to find anything and everything, had beds set up, got me some hot cider to drink, and tucked me into bed. She made us breakfast the next morning, gave me lots of loving and encouragement, and sent us home, refreshed and ready for the drive.

This is just how Heather is: humbly just caring. Heather, wish you were here drinking coffee with me, or I was there eating sushi with you, but know that you are well loved and missed, and we'll be seeing you, and I'll bet the time between now and then will fly.