It wasn't until we began sharing a common task - caring for our aged and active grandmother - that I began to understand the very deep and meaningful bonds that had been established as very little girls and how they had influenced or eroded the relationship that I discovered again as an adult sibling.
Here we are . . . like Charlie's Angels or something. Only we weren't protecting the world from invaders. My sister was protecting me - from the world. I never saw it that way, but it's there in celluloid, Ektochrome.
She's always occupied this position - my protector and I've never acknowledged it. I didn't need a protector. Well, actually I did. Our parents didn't fill this position very adequately so it's no wonder that she assumed someone should step in and at least try. So she did.
To me - she was the role model. A job description I think she not so secretly hated. I tried so hard to be like her. After all, what other option did I have? Should I allow my Mother to be my role model? Well, no that just wouldn't do. Even at three I could see that this was a bad idea. So . . . it became my sister's job.
As adolescents she would get so mad and tell me, "Stop copying everything I do!" But I didn't know how to. There were no other good examples to be had.
I didn't copy everything. For example, I don't think my sister would have been caught dead in a decidedly juvenile cherry-print halter set, she never spent hours playing with paper, crayons, paints and glue and I don't believe for one minute that she was always happy about having her little sister trying to hang around her and her "grown up friends" being obnoxious and wanting to do everything they were doing.
But what choice did I have? She was the only one I could find to keep company with and crayons just can't remain interesting for an eternity.
Life hasn't changed much.
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