New Leaf
Well-Known Member
I am the middle child.
We are four, the first three born in rapid succession, then five years between my sis and I. Older brother and sister had some time to bond as toddlers until the dreaded baby came- me. I say this because my childhood memories good and bad are intertwined with intense, merciless teasing by my older siblings. It seems they had a pact to either get me to stick things up my nose(raisin) or eat stuff(dirt, wooden game piece) but the number one objective was to get me to cry.
I remember Mom and Dad telling me to be tough, to just ignore them. In their defense I think they were trying to prepare me for the world outside. Yankee toughness, keep a stiff upper lip. I don't remember brother and sister getting into trouble much for this behavior. This reinforced their teasing, and eventually taught me to "stuff" my feelings.
Cry I did. I am sensitive. It is the artist in me. I learned to cry in my room or out in the woods, somewhere safe and private. I got no empathy for crying in front of them, it only made things worse.
My sister made a "go-for"of me. One day, I dared stand up to her, "Get it yourself" I said. After that, all bets were off. The meanness came on triple fold.
She found my diary and read it to the neighborhood kids. When I was going to enter the same middle school her instructions were, "If you see me, do NOT tell me hi, do not try to make friends with my friends they are MY friends, not yours. She had one of her friends call me up to "ask me out" I could hear her and her friends all laughing in the background. Etc. etc. etc.
I was an awkward child, my sister, the popular one. I didn't have a name for myself in high school "Oh are you Sue 's sister?" kids would say.
I think this went beyond sibling rivalry. I felt for years that something was wrong with me, at 13 I hated being home, it was not my safe place.
Our family moved from the East coast to Hawaii when I was in the 5th grade. Moved back East after 7th grade, then to Hawaii again in the 10th grade. I loved Hawaii, my brother and sis didn't. Those were trying times. I was a lonely kid. Not a loner, I had friends, lonely at home.
This is from my past, my childhood. It is a part of my life that has shaped me. I love my brother and sister, we have become friends in our adult life but this stuff, these memories do not leave me. I do not dwell on them, they surface here and there triggered by an old song, a familar smell, an old movie. I have come to accept the feelings, not the ill treatment.
We don't get together often because of the distance, I settled in Hawaii, the family one by one, ended up back east.
This trip, after a few glasses of wine, and a stroll down memory lane, we were talking about old times. When I was 13, I wanted to go to the fair with my friend. My Mom said no. I was desperate to get out of the house, to be with someone who treated me kindly. So I went. I think it was one of the first rebellious things I did. Long story short, we stayed at the fair too long and were so afraid to go home. We ended up sleeping in the hay in the sheep barn. That's where the police found us and brought us home. Boy, was I in trouble. That story has been one of the notorious recollections of memory lane. It was brought up again at lunch at brothers house. Age, stress, wine, loosened my tongue. The feelings surfaced and I quietly said " I wasn't trying to run away I just needed to get out, I hated being home." Emotions took over and escaped. Looking at my brother and sister I blurted out " You guys teased me relentlessly, you were 4$$#0}€S! (Shocked silence filled the room) and I continued tears filling my eyes (inner voice repeating-I will not cry, I will not cry, oops too late) " You tortured me, I hated myself and felt like a nothing, I hated being at home". I recounted the stories told above. An awkward silence was broken by my sisters protest " I don't even remember doing that stuff, you've got to move on. My brother echoed in the background adding "That was forty five years ago." I quickly wiped the tears from my face and apologized, saying it was tough for me growing up.
I then went full swing, the gates were open, I talked about my difficult children, how hard it has been, looking at my nieces and the boyfriend I said " Do not try drugs, not even once, it rips your family apart."
What an introduction to the entourage from Hawaii. I apologized to the boy sheepishly(sorry for the pun)saying " Wow, you really got to know me inside and out!
I had not intended to go there, but there it was.
My sister is upset with me for bringing these memories up " You've got to stop dwelling on the past. " she retorts.
I don't feel I dwell on it, but it is triggered by certain things, it is a part of me, my life. We are at an impasse. She does not understand, and doesn't want to address it.
We put it aside and planned a day trip to my Dads college. On the way back we stopped at Moms. She has decided to go ahead with her procedure on Friday, and I have adjusted our schedule to be by her side. Sister does not want Mom to do it. I have my reservations, but will try to be positive and will be there. Sis did mention to me she would go too. Like so many other times, she abruptly decided not to. "What you are not going?" I said incredulously. She shot me one of her famous looks. I just shrugged, there was no sense arguing. Mom came out to say another goodbye as we were going, she looked at my sister and said " Will I be seeing you soon?" Sis replied harshly "You mean If I see you? Implying Mom might not survive. Mom tried to brush it off, I was, well to put it crudely, pissed off. We drove off and I told my sister how mean that was. She went on about how; that is how she feels, and she won't hold back her feelings because that's how we were raised to just stuff everything....blah, blah, blah.
Most of my family do not tango with my sister because the dance never ends well. Especially me, because of our history. I crossed the forbidden zone and told her "Oh, I see, so it is okay for you to say what you really feel, but not anyone else." Her hands tensed on the steering wheel and her voice got louder. "What are you talking about? Ohhhh, all that stuff you said? That's in the past, the past is the past, I don't go around calling people @$$#0))3$, and dwelling on stuff." Needless to say it did not go well. I ended up calling her "domineering sister" my daughter finally chimed in and told us to stop. Wise young one.
I suppose this is something families go through when faced with the stress of terminal illness of a beloved parent. Family dynamics kick in.
My sister called and we talked and apologized. I feel what most puzzles her is that I am not the retreating underling of years past. I am older, and will not roll over to her whims.
We are all on a journey of no return. Our parents imminent passing reminds us of our own mortality.
For me, this means some ongoing reflection of past and present, trying to figure out what makes me, me, mending what needs to be fixed and striving to make the best of the years I have left.
I encouraged my sister to be there for Mom at the hospital. I told her to try to put her feelings and fear on the back burner and concentrate on Mom, be positive and support her. She said she will be there, we shall see.
I do hope in the future, as we walk down the memory lane of this chapter in our lives, we will be able to say we did our utmost to be there for one another and helped our Mom retain her independence and dignity up until the end.
Leafy
We are four, the first three born in rapid succession, then five years between my sis and I. Older brother and sister had some time to bond as toddlers until the dreaded baby came- me. I say this because my childhood memories good and bad are intertwined with intense, merciless teasing by my older siblings. It seems they had a pact to either get me to stick things up my nose(raisin) or eat stuff(dirt, wooden game piece) but the number one objective was to get me to cry.
I remember Mom and Dad telling me to be tough, to just ignore them. In their defense I think they were trying to prepare me for the world outside. Yankee toughness, keep a stiff upper lip. I don't remember brother and sister getting into trouble much for this behavior. This reinforced their teasing, and eventually taught me to "stuff" my feelings.
Cry I did. I am sensitive. It is the artist in me. I learned to cry in my room or out in the woods, somewhere safe and private. I got no empathy for crying in front of them, it only made things worse.
My sister made a "go-for"of me. One day, I dared stand up to her, "Get it yourself" I said. After that, all bets were off. The meanness came on triple fold.
She found my diary and read it to the neighborhood kids. When I was going to enter the same middle school her instructions were, "If you see me, do NOT tell me hi, do not try to make friends with my friends they are MY friends, not yours. She had one of her friends call me up to "ask me out" I could hear her and her friends all laughing in the background. Etc. etc. etc.
I was an awkward child, my sister, the popular one. I didn't have a name for myself in high school "Oh are you Sue 's sister?" kids would say.
I think this went beyond sibling rivalry. I felt for years that something was wrong with me, at 13 I hated being home, it was not my safe place.
Our family moved from the East coast to Hawaii when I was in the 5th grade. Moved back East after 7th grade, then to Hawaii again in the 10th grade. I loved Hawaii, my brother and sis didn't. Those were trying times. I was a lonely kid. Not a loner, I had friends, lonely at home.
This is from my past, my childhood. It is a part of my life that has shaped me. I love my brother and sister, we have become friends in our adult life but this stuff, these memories do not leave me. I do not dwell on them, they surface here and there triggered by an old song, a familar smell, an old movie. I have come to accept the feelings, not the ill treatment.
We don't get together often because of the distance, I settled in Hawaii, the family one by one, ended up back east.
This trip, after a few glasses of wine, and a stroll down memory lane, we were talking about old times. When I was 13, I wanted to go to the fair with my friend. My Mom said no. I was desperate to get out of the house, to be with someone who treated me kindly. So I went. I think it was one of the first rebellious things I did. Long story short, we stayed at the fair too long and were so afraid to go home. We ended up sleeping in the hay in the sheep barn. That's where the police found us and brought us home. Boy, was I in trouble. That story has been one of the notorious recollections of memory lane. It was brought up again at lunch at brothers house. Age, stress, wine, loosened my tongue. The feelings surfaced and I quietly said " I wasn't trying to run away I just needed to get out, I hated being home." Emotions took over and escaped. Looking at my brother and sister I blurted out " You guys teased me relentlessly, you were 4$$#0}€S! (Shocked silence filled the room) and I continued tears filling my eyes (inner voice repeating-I will not cry, I will not cry, oops too late) " You tortured me, I hated myself and felt like a nothing, I hated being at home". I recounted the stories told above. An awkward silence was broken by my sisters protest " I don't even remember doing that stuff, you've got to move on. My brother echoed in the background adding "That was forty five years ago." I quickly wiped the tears from my face and apologized, saying it was tough for me growing up.
I then went full swing, the gates were open, I talked about my difficult children, how hard it has been, looking at my nieces and the boyfriend I said " Do not try drugs, not even once, it rips your family apart."
What an introduction to the entourage from Hawaii. I apologized to the boy sheepishly(sorry for the pun)saying " Wow, you really got to know me inside and out!
I had not intended to go there, but there it was.
My sister is upset with me for bringing these memories up " You've got to stop dwelling on the past. " she retorts.
I don't feel I dwell on it, but it is triggered by certain things, it is a part of me, my life. We are at an impasse. She does not understand, and doesn't want to address it.
We put it aside and planned a day trip to my Dads college. On the way back we stopped at Moms. She has decided to go ahead with her procedure on Friday, and I have adjusted our schedule to be by her side. Sister does not want Mom to do it. I have my reservations, but will try to be positive and will be there. Sis did mention to me she would go too. Like so many other times, she abruptly decided not to. "What you are not going?" I said incredulously. She shot me one of her famous looks. I just shrugged, there was no sense arguing. Mom came out to say another goodbye as we were going, she looked at my sister and said " Will I be seeing you soon?" Sis replied harshly "You mean If I see you? Implying Mom might not survive. Mom tried to brush it off, I was, well to put it crudely, pissed off. We drove off and I told my sister how mean that was. She went on about how; that is how she feels, and she won't hold back her feelings because that's how we were raised to just stuff everything....blah, blah, blah.
Most of my family do not tango with my sister because the dance never ends well. Especially me, because of our history. I crossed the forbidden zone and told her "Oh, I see, so it is okay for you to say what you really feel, but not anyone else." Her hands tensed on the steering wheel and her voice got louder. "What are you talking about? Ohhhh, all that stuff you said? That's in the past, the past is the past, I don't go around calling people @$$#0))3$, and dwelling on stuff." Needless to say it did not go well. I ended up calling her "domineering sister" my daughter finally chimed in and told us to stop. Wise young one.
I suppose this is something families go through when faced with the stress of terminal illness of a beloved parent. Family dynamics kick in.
My sister called and we talked and apologized. I feel what most puzzles her is that I am not the retreating underling of years past. I am older, and will not roll over to her whims.
We are all on a journey of no return. Our parents imminent passing reminds us of our own mortality.
For me, this means some ongoing reflection of past and present, trying to figure out what makes me, me, mending what needs to be fixed and striving to make the best of the years I have left.
I encouraged my sister to be there for Mom at the hospital. I told her to try to put her feelings and fear on the back burner and concentrate on Mom, be positive and support her. She said she will be there, we shall see.
I do hope in the future, as we walk down the memory lane of this chapter in our lives, we will be able to say we did our utmost to be there for one another and helped our Mom retain her independence and dignity up until the end.
Leafy