Now or Never

Okay, right now is the time to get that story that disappeared out of my system. Its basically blizzarding outside and the windows are fogged over, so I’m basically trapped in my room. My roommate is here, but that’s alright. We’re going to go see ROBOTS together later. It’s an animated movie.

SISTER – the unabridged edition
My sister and I have had a very interesting relationship from the very beginning, in fact right from her birth. Her birthday is one of my very first clear memories. I was two and a half when she was born and I don’t remember much from before that, just fuzzy things that don’t really make sense. I don’t actually remember my sister from her birthday, but I remember the day. I remember standing in a long white hall next to a big white door. Everything seemed bigger and longer because I was two. I was leaning up against the wall and kind of squirming at the same time as two year olds are apt to do. My father was standing next to me for a while, but I mostly remember him being inside of the room next to me, where my mother was. I don’t remember being bothered about being alone in the white hall and I don’t remember being scared. A nurse walked by at one point in my memory. Some time during the course of the time I was standing in the hall I was given a chocolate chip cookie. This is the most exciting part of the memory. I was thrilled by the chocolate chip cookie. First of all it was HUGE. Maybe because I was two and everything seemed bigger, but this cookie was gigantic. I was so excited by it. Also, I’m pretty sure I had never had chocolate before, because my parents were not the type to just give me sweets. I think this is the root of my being a chocoholic. Which is not something I’m complaining about. I don’t mind being a chocoholic and as you can see I haven’t checked myself into any sort of chocoholic rehab, not that they have rehab for chocolate, but I’m not trying to stop. Anyway, back to my sister. So the most exciting thing for me about the day my sister was born was a chocolate chip cookie.
The next thing I remember about my sister – actually I’m not even sure if I remember it or if it’s a fake memory made up of an image from a picture and stories my mother told me. Anyway, the first memory of my sister with her actually in it is when she was home from the hospital, it might be a while after because she seemed kind of big for being newly born, but then at two everything is big. I remember holding her and wondering what she was and why she was here and most importantly why she was taking my mother’s time away from me. I think I was fairly hostile to the idea of having a sister at first, in fact for a long time. I didn’t really understand it. I know my mom blames herself for not getting me used to the idea of having a sister before my sister got there, but I don’t think that would really have mattered that much. I’ve baby sat for siblings before and the older one, despite obvious efforts by the parents, wasn’t very excited about being an older brother. However, I’ve also babysat for siblings where the older sister was very good with her little brother. It probably depends on the person. So my mom really shouldn’t blame herself.

LATER
I was more receptive to my sister later. We played together a lot, she was a fine playmate. She was there and basically did anything I asked her to do, which I thought was pretty cool. I remember once at a park, I was making up this game that we were explorers or something on an adventure and we were walking around the park doing different things and at one point I thought the explorers would eat an ant. I was ahead of my sister, doing everything first and then she followed behind and did what I said. So I said “eat an ant” and then pretended to eat an ant off a tree. My sister however, did not pretend and in fact ate an ant. It would have been fine had the ant not stung her tongue, which I found really funny. She however did not. Mom, I think was fairly amused. I didn’t get in trouble for that one, but I did feel bad about her being stung. Although, it was very funny.
My relationship with my sister was fairly off and on depending on everything. Some times we got along fine, other times we hated eachother with a passion, sometimes we ignored each other and a few times I hated her so much I just wanted to beat her head into the floor and make her go limp. Now I realize how scary that desire was. I’m scared that that was inside me. I think often I would express my emotions on my sister. Which makes sense. She became my outlet for venting. When I got older and more “mature” and stopped using my sister as a punching bag, I just generally started keeping my emotions in. This is what probably ultimately lend to my first break down. Its kind of ironic. My sister, who I expressed every hatred towards was what kept me emotionally stable for most of my younger years. It wasn’t until I stopped beating her, holding in those emotions and acting like a “mature” adult, did I have my emotional collapse. In a way, the play I posted oh, so long ago really is me recounting what I’ve done to my sister. I think that if I ever have a really successful play, it will be about the relationship between two sisters. I’m pretty sure I’m not ready to write that play yet. I think that’s what siblings are for, expressing emotions. My parents wouldn’t let my take out my grief and vent on them and I couldn’t do it to friends. My sister was there and she often provoked me into reacting negatively. My mom said she just wanted my attention and she did get it. Although, its not the type of attention I would want.

When we had moved, things got better because we were able to go into our own rooms and ignore each other, often slamming the doors on the way in. One summer when I was sleeping on my balcony, because I could and I was having a good summer, I let my sister sleep out there with me for a while. Usually, I was just me and sometimes the cat would join, but she had to sleep on my feet because I’m allergic to cats. Poor kitty, she so old now. Anyway, that was the summer before sixth grade I think. It was after the movie TITANIC had come out. Every night before she fell asleep I would have to sing her the Celion Dion song from that movie. It was cute. We got along really well that summer. She’s actually kind of cute when she sleeps, but don’t tell her I said that. I’ve got to keep up my reputation.

12 AND 10
The summer I was twelve and she was 10 was the hardest ever. Our dad was in Hawai’i for work and would be gone for months. We were both in Junior Lifegaurds that summer too. It was my third or fourth year doing it and her first. I had always been at a much more competitive beach before, but we had switched this summer, because it was closer. My sister has never really had a hard instructor. Lucky her. The summer was going to be lts of fun. Aside that I was in the same summer camp as my sister. The only problem was that mom got sick. Really, really sick. She was so sick that most of the time she didn’t get out of bed. Actually the whole, time she didn’t get out of bed, except when she went to the hospital. I was very worried about her. So was my sister. Mom never stayed in the hospital long because she had to look after us, even though she wasn’t really doing much except being there. I did most of the work. My mom’s illness, which they never figure out what caused it, really worried me. She was very sick. I know I thought she was going to die, but I didn’t say anything. I used all my energy to banish that thought from my head. I didn’t mention it to my mom and I most definitely didn’t mention it to my sister. She needed me to be strong. She was looking up to me to say everything was going to be okay and I told her it was, even though I wasn’t quiet sure, but I said it with as much conviction as possible, in order to make myself believe it.
The first time I went to the grocery store was when it really sunk in that this was a hard thing to do. The way the people looked at me as I picked the simple foods that we needed that I could use to feed my sister and I, since my mother wasn’t able to eat. Being only twelve buying bread, milk, juice and other staples I got the most pitying looks from the customers and employees. I could barely fight back the tears from those looks, the only thing that worked was adding the prices in my head and adding tax, to make sure I didn’t buy more then I had money for. Meals for that summer were not very nutrious and I assume that it didn’t help my present height. But neither my sister or I were ever hungry, I made sure of that. We always had cereal for breakfast and I made sandwiches for lunch, although it was often just peanut butter and jelly, and dinner was normally canned soup. My sister and I were lucky, we never lacked for fruit, since we had all the trees in our back yard. I think there were somedays when all we ate was fruit. I personally worried we weren’t getting enough protein, but I didn’t worry my mom or sister about that. Besides she did drink a lot of milk, more then I did, which I’m glad of. She’s taller then me now, which is frusterating, but I’m glad. My sister and I ate plums forever. They’re still her favorite fruit. I find them hard to chew.
I felt so guilty going to Junior Lifegaurd’s every day, even though it was only for three hours a day. I didn’t want to leave mom alone for so long. What if she needed something? She was so sick. It pained me to watch her. It also made me feel so helpless, because I was really too young to do anything. I couldn’t drive her to the hospital (my friends mom did that). I couldn’t heal her. The best thing I could do was make sure my sister was alright and that if mom ever needed anything I was there to get it for her. I wanted to stay home from Junior Lifeguards, but mom really wouldn’t let me and I didn’t want her to know I worried so much. I had to pretend I was a normal kid, despite all the sudden responsibility I had. I had to go to Junior Lifegaurds so mom wouldn’t worry and could focus on getting better and I couldn’t openly worry about mom, for fear of scaring my sister. Nights were hard. My sister would cry and I had to tell her everything would be all right, even when I didn’t know for sure and I couldn’t cry because I had to be strong for my sister. I often sleep with her in her bed so she wouldn’t worry so much. It would have been so easy to just stay with my friend all summer, but then I’d feel like I was deserting. Although mom kept coming home from the hospital, I knew she should have just stayed. In the hospital they could hook her up to the IV and she would get nutrients, she could be watched 24 hours a day and going back and forth didn’t seem to be good for her at all. Maternal instincts are really interesting. I think she kept coming home for us. However, she shouldn’t have. It was better for all of us when she was in the hospital full time. It did help me relax. I didn’t have to worry about her every second, because I knew there was always a doctor near by. With mom in the hospital I could focus on my sister and caring for her.
I felt like I had suddenly become a mother myself. I was feircely protective and I wanted her to be okay. I still feel those emotions creep over me every now and then, but I tell myself that I’m not really her mother and she doesn’t respond to me as such, which somewhere deep inside breaks my heart. However, being a mother figure is very tiring. One night, when mom was still home, I was able to get my sister to sleep over at a friends house. They lived really close so I was able to walk her over. That night was relaxing, because I only really had to look after myself again, even though mom was up stairs. But it made me realise how much I need my sister too.
I felt so strongly to keep us together and at home. My friend’s mom had offered do many times for us to stay with them, but I felt I should stay at home, even when mom was in the hospital.
Finally, when dad was able to come home and mom was staying in the hospital full time, my sister and I spent the last night before dad came home at my friends house. It was nice. I got to relax and almost be a kid again, but to be honest it took a very long time to really recover that and I’m not sure how much of my motherhood expirience I’ve let go. I still worry about how my sister is doing in school and where she’s going afterwards. Also, I blame myself for so many of her faults, the way I know my mom blames herself for mine, which is silly, but I’m probably right about my sister’s.

BREAKDOWNS
During my break downs, I always got this sense that the people around me – althoughI never let them in – were scared by me, because they didn’t know what to do and felt the same helpless feeling I had expirienced when my mom was sick. The only person I think that had a lasting impact on was my sister. I think she was terrified. I still see it in her eyes when she looks at me sometimes and I’m not sure how to react. Most people try to forget that period in my life and I tried to for a long time also. That wasn’t the way to fix it. When I talked to my sister about it ever so briefly, I could still hear that fear in her voice. It was like she was suddenly seeing someone she thought was invincible die. I had been strong for her and then she saw me crumble. One of the few exact memories I have of those times, was my mother saying to me “your sister’s really worried”. I then remember the look on her face when she came to tell me my fiance was outside and “has blueberries” – those are they two things I remember, the rest is a swirl of tears and sleep. I could see in her eyes the fear and concern. That’s what really shook me, even in my deep depressional collapse.

NOW
Now my sister and I get along like sisters. I think that’s because she has grown up so much and I’ve moved across the country. I think the move really helped my get over feeling like her mother. It wasn’t so much that I forgot that feeling, more like I realized she’s old enough to look after herself, even though she is naïve. Sort of in the same was parents accept that their kids must move on, except I’m the one who moved.

That’s about the best reconstruction I can do. I feel that the original was better, but I guess we’ll never know. Oh well, that’s life.

Good night.