Hopefully they feel the same.Though they may not because we all have a shared history. My brother is six years younger than I am. My earliest memory of him is being asked to watch him as he lay on his back on the change table. My mother had no sooner turned her back when he peed in my face with unerring accuracy. I disregarded him from then on. I don't think my sister paid him much attention either because, when he was in Grade 1,we arrived home on the bus and our mother was disappointed to learn that he had not got on it and that we hadn't even noticed. Luckily she found him back at the school and all was well.
He grew up and seemed nice enough. He was at Primary School, I was at High School. I left for Uni, he was at High School by day. By night he stayed in his room watching the 3 in 1 tv/ radio/tape thingo that mum had bought him in a fit of generosity and which she later came to regret. He only emerged to feed, not on the blood of virgins, but on Corn Jacks, which we were revolted by and called Snot Jacks.
My sister I recollect more clearly. We had baths together and she would dutifully reply when I asked, "Who is your favourite singer?", with my own name because I had trained her like a seal. I quite fancied myself, the acoustics of bathrooms being advantageous. My particular favourite song at the time was Billie Don't Be A Hero, by Paperlace. I do actions too! I could be on the stage as I keep telling people.
Later in life she wreaked her revenge for this torment by cutting off the long hair on my prized Barbie dolls, hacking off the legs of my favourite jeans and telling all the kids on the bus that I had pubic hair when I was 11 and she was 9. No doubt the reaction would be just as incredulous if she made the announcement today (pubic hair seems to be so yesterday). Those other kids' jaws were hanging, they were so gobsmacked by her news. I was mortified.
Let it be said we were not close or like minded. She was popular, sporty, and funny, albeit usually in trouble which she deserved. I was reserved, always had my nose in a book and quite the girly swat. She took advantage of my distraction by offering me a Cool Mint and then feeding me a Moth Ball.
I survived and so did she and we are now great friends. Our brother too, although he lives on a different continent. I am sure it's not because he doesn't like us though. Right?
It is with some concern now that I am hearing of conflict between my own children as they are working through the dynamics of living together as adults in a shared unit. A pre-primary teacher's advice about children's interactions that I remember from when my kids were young was "never interfere unless there is blood".
I am hoping it won't come to that but a wet dish cloth has been flung and harsh words have been spoken.
"Little Women" by Louisa May Alcott is a fondly remembered novel from my childhood. I have a copy which was awarded to my Grandma in 1922 as a prize at Sunday School. Maybe it has
coloured my view of what sisterly relationships can be. The March sisters were very different but they all got on with it. I am hoping my daughters will do the same and be as lucky as I am to have the enduring support of siblings who know and get you in ways that others do not, and still care.
Of course these relationships do not happen without effort ( I have been tested over the years). This is true of any relationship. Good communication, time shared, respect, tolerance and a sense of humour certainly help things along. Fingers crossed things will work out well. I am not interfering but trying to do what I can to minimize the conflict.
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