If I were were told that I had to choose one word, and one word only, with which to describe the totality of the effect that my sister has had on me throughout the course of my long and accursed life on this dreadful ball of dust and rock, that word, without any doubt in my mind, without the slightest hint of sarcasm, could only be this:

Joy

Yes. Joy.

And on this day, the 24th day of September in the Year of Our Lord 2004, my sister Maya, that bundle of joy, that brightest orb in the sky of my dismal lifelong night, is turning twenty-eight years old [note: last year's birthday card].

That guiding force, that source of wisdom, that font of trust, patience, and justice that is my sister, my elder sister, my eldest sister, is once again approaching with efficient speed the turning of the odometer that will one day in the not too distant future render her a mammal of some thirty years in age.

And, oh, how do I count the ways of that joy?

When turning the kaleidescope of memories in my head, watching the past through the lens of a rotating cylinder of stained glass in my mind, many memories leap immediately into the arms of my consciousness, as only the joy of days gone by can.

Joy. What a wonderful word.

Say it to yourself, won't you? Joy.

It feels good - don't be ashamed to say it! Joy!

Cry it out from the deepest depths of your heaving bosom!

Joy! JOY! JOY!

And now, let us celebrate the source of that joy.

For your pleasure today, mes amis, I have constructed from my mind's eye, from that internal library of yesteryear we call "memory," that place in which ink on the pages of a life gone by slowly fade to nothing as the parchment yellows, weakens, and is burned to ash in the face of that fire called "the future,"  a scene depicting my sister's seventh birthday, when I was but a wee lad of five years.

Come back and remember with me!

Come back and...

...enjoy.

See what I mean about all that "joy" crap?

Thanks for the memories, sis!