Back to my vacation. My sister met me at the hotel on Sunday afternoon, the 13th. (I'm the 1944 oldest, then a 1949 brother, then 1950 this sister, then 1952 another sister(deceased), then a 1961-ish brother.) The Mensa activities weren't over yet, but there were very few people remaining. Most had already left for the airport.
The hotel is kind of restrictive as to who can drive in, so I told the "greeter" outside, where the cars pull up, that I was expecting my sister. He asked what kind of car she was driving. I said I didn't know - I haven't seen her in 16 years. He asked what her name is, and I said I didn't know - she's recently divorced, and I'm not sure what name she's using now. He looked at me funny.
Oh, well, this is pretty much par for my family.
She arrived, we had lunch, and then we went to my room and talked for a long while.
Strange. I've always had a lot of resentment toward her because of the way she set me and our younger sister up for beatings when we were young, and because she destroyed so many of the few things I had back then, and because of her having used me so blatantly when she got into trouble in her early 20s. I always saw her as a user to whom truth was an abstract concept, someone to be suspicious of. There was always distrust and anger simmering under the surface.
Sunday afternoon, in a matter of literally minutes, that all went away. We talked some about our childhood, something we'd never talked about before. I had come to the realization about 6 years ago that our mother deserved as much blame as our father. She didn't protect us from him, but that could be excused. There was danger in that. But more, she didn't "teach" us, either. We got no life instruction, no encouragement, no social training, nothing. She never really talked with us, or wanted to hear what we had to say, or worried about what we felt. It was like the five of us were just things that had arrived and had to be tolerated until we left. Like a herd of puppies or something. But even puppies, you play with and hug sometimes.
Sister came to that realization also within the past two or three years. I was surprised when she brought it up. I felt disloyal thinking that of my mother, because when she was older, after our father had died, in the last decade before she died, she tried to repair the damage that had been done - which mostly involved her paying for lawyers, bail, rehab - but it was too little too late. And she complained about the necessity.
We talked about our siblings.
Our little sister drank herself to death in her early 40s.
Oldest brother is so violent he has put everyone he ever loved in the hospital, we're talking serious injuries, and he is a user, a predator, and I don't think sociopath would be going too far. He avoids Sister because she knows too much about some things he had done, and if he ever contacts me, my first thought would be "What does he want?" But he won't contact me because he doesn't know whether I know about something he did during the time he was staying with us in Washington in the early '80s. I think I know now why he moved out so precipitously, without leaving a forwarding address or phone number. I didn't know until last week. I thought it was because he was in trouble with some drug runners and didn't want to be found (which was true, but not the cause). But I've figured out what he did. It explains a lot.
Our baby brother is deep into serious addictions, and Sister says she hasn't heard from him in like five years.
Sister and I are all that's left, and we know we're lucky we've made it - we're almost surprised we made it - I through psychotherapy, and she through religion.
For the first time, I forgave Sister completely for all those past wrongs - we had never been taught differently - in fact, as she pointed out, we were purposely set against each other and didn't know any other way. I think we'll be in closer touch now.
On Monday, she picked me up and we went to her daughter's house. I had been sort of dreading the visit, because my niece has five children under nine, and she and her husband are very religious. She homeschools. I'm not real good around the activity level of a herd of small children, and let's face it, no body wants to admire someone else's grandchildren.
It was nice. The children really are beautiful, and quiet and well behaved, and they obviously love each other. No fighting, no competition. The oldest boy is a bit of an attention hog, but he knows when he's gone too far. Sister had arranged a computer video call (Skype?) to her eldest daughter, who lives with her new husband in Belguim. That was pretty neat, and with lunch, the major activity of the afternoon. When I get my new PC, I want that, too!
I had asked that I be returned to the hotel about 5 pm. Sister was taking her youngest daughter out for dinner for her birthday that evening and I could have gone along, but ... well, I needed recovery time.
Sister and me:
That's NOT my behind sticking way out in the second picture! It's a dark container in the flower bed behind me. Really!!! Look carefully!
I look more than six years older than she. But then, I had a hard life. (Oops, so has she.) Well, I'm a widow. (Oops, her voice still cracks when she talks about how her ex hurt her.) Well, that's my natural hair color. (Oops, she has dark roots. DARK, darn it!) Well, she gets regular good sex. My well went dry. Yeah, that's it! Besides, she has a boyfriend who paid for multiple laser facial treatments. So there. Harrumph! (I want a one a them, too! Not the laser treatments, necessarily, but a boyfriend who could pay for them would be handy. Hell, a boyfriend would be handy!)
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