Dear Kari,

You’re getting married today! Most of us never thought this day would come. No, I kid—rather, most people thought I would never get married, and somehow that happened, so I guess that’s a reason to believe in miracles?

Most everyone who knew you actually thought you’d get married at, I don’t know, 18. Or maybe 15. Or even 12. After all, you always had a line of suitors stretched around the block and into the next town—boys who would have given anything to have just one date with you. Your first “boyfriend” was at two weeks old, when Mom came to pick you up in the infant room at First Baptist Church and you were holding hands with the little boy beside you in the crib. I think we all knew then that we’d have our work cut out for us.

Most everyone who knew you actually thought you’d get married at, I don’t know, 18. Or maybe 15. Or even 12. After all, you always had a line of suitors stretched around the block and into the next town—boys who would have given anything to have just one date with you. Your first “boyfriend” was at two weeks old, when Mom came to pick you up in the infant room at First Baptist Church and you were holding hands with the little boy beside you in the crib. I think we all knew then that we’d have our work cut out for us.

I watched as you got your heart broken a couple times, and it nearly broke Mom’s and mine as well to see you like that, but it was all for good reason: so Josh could come along and sweep up the pieces.

You’ve always been a good egg, even when you were little—and by God you were terrible from, say, ages two to four; as Mom would say, “a little toot”—you always had the biggest heart and never met an enemy. You’ve also always been eager to please everyone else; as such, promise me this much: You’ll enjoy every minute of YOUR day and remember that today is the one chance in your life it can be all about you.

Being your sister for the past (almost) 27 years has been the absolute best. Sure, you were a brat at times (sorry, I’m still your sister after all!), but you always brought the fun, the entertainment and most definitely the drama.

Your charisma and genuine caring nature have always made you the most popular girl in any circle, but never in that mean girl way. You were just as quickly to befriend the class geek as you were the captain of the cheerleading squad. It must suck having everybody positively adore you, huh?

It’s funny how our lives have run such close parallels. You’re getting married a month shy of your 27th birthday; I got (legally) bound two months before mine. You welcome your first (fur) baby just before your wedding; Ella was born the day we landed on our honeymoon. You moved to “the big city,” only to be drawn back to your Southern roots. You and Josh have bought a house that you’ve been frantically fixing up on your own; I know a little something about that, too. (Luckily, you’re nearly done with yours, whereas I’ll wile away another decade of my life getting this old lady in proper shape!)

You’ve never liked being the center of attention; I know something about that. I was dreading walking down the aisle on my own wedding day, terrified of everyone staring at me. But those 500 people who have come from Charleston and Amsterdam, Knoxville and Dallas, are there for YOU. Because they love you and Josh and would not have missed this afternoon for the world. No one is going to be thinking your arm looks fat (it never does anyway) or that your hair has gone flat (you have perfect spun gold for locks). A friend described you as “the most symmetrical person I’ve ever known,” and I’d agree: You would look perfect in a paper bag without even trying.

Don’t forget to enjoy the party; it will be over far too quickly, and when else in life are you going to have a 10-piece band and Mom and Dad footing the bar bill for hundreds of your closest friends? Well, OK, maybe on your 30th birthday, but that’s three long years to wait.

Eat the food, drink the drinks; don’t let saying hi to everyone there keep you from making the most of this day that you’ve spent nearly a year planning. If you don’t get to talk to every last person there, that’s OK! You’ll see them again soon enough.

Now, go off and do this thing. And remember: I’m ready to be an aunt, sooner rather than later. (I said it was all about you, but let’s be honest: It’s kind of about me, too. Big sister duties and all.)

To a lifetime of happiness,

Your Big Sister