Sometimes I wonder if my siblings actually enjoyed having someone new to torture, er, I mean, play with. The age difference sure helped.
They seemed to enjoy making me feel bad and upset. They’d draw a picture of a pig with a curly tail and it would have my name written across its body. They’d tease me about liking the boy next door. For this reason, to this DAY I hate the name “Jason.”
For my brother, I guess I was the little “brother” he never had. Let’s just say projectiles flicked from his finger (that was previously in his nose) have been shot at me and the ooey gooey have been wiped on me.
For my sister, I think I was much more of a pain in her side. I’d always want to play, and she’d usually be sleeping or she’d tell me to come back later. She did, however, let me draw on her book covers. That was fun. I wish we still had those.
Still, there were some great times.
My brother would take me to baseball games, the Del Mar Fair (where I saw my first concert — The Monkees in 1997), and the movies (first one he took me to was “The Lion King”). Although he seemed to be working a lot or just not at home, he still took the time to help me with my math or science homework when he got home or just talked with me in the dark.
My sister took me (actually I tagged along) to see my first movie in the theater (Edwards Scissorhands, December 1990). I actually saved that ticket stub for a long time. It meant that much to me. Tagging along was what I remember most, actually. I remember walking to her friend’s house. We stopped by the ice cream truck and she bought me some Now and Laters.
When my sister moved out of the house, then my brother (about a decade apart), my whole world became much smaller and lonelier. It just seemed to happen so quickly. I’d wander into their unoccupied rooms and sometimes cry.
It took a few years, but I finally got over it. In some ways, I guess it was good that no one was around when I went through my “angry” years. Then again, my sister was there to serve as mediator between my parents and me.
Being the youngest, I always admired my siblings. So, it was strange when my sister told me she was proud of what I had done, that I had done things she would never have the courage to do. It is shocking, yet pleasing to hear.
The holidays are approaching, and our mom (who is the holiday planner and reason — I think — we get together) will be out of the country until after Christmas. She had told me that she wants to make sure her kids get together. It was kind of awkward. It made me think of the future that I don’t want to think about right now.
So far we have a few weeks to ponder. But I do want to make my mom happy, so I am sure we’ll think of something.
Lesson learned: My siblings were my second parents and then some.