Sibling Rivalry

They say that "sisters are different flowers from the same garden," and I believe that is probably the most apt definition that I have ever heard. While they share so many, many traits (sometimes to their consternation!), my daughter's are frequently as different as night and day. . . .as a rose is to a lilac. Both are beautiful and add a special dimension and charm to the garden, but they are distinct and unique as well.

Perhaps their eight year age difference has exacerbated the sibling rivalry between them as they have gotten older. That very thing was what made them so close and bonded when they were young. My youngest seemed to idolize her big sister and wanted to do everything just the way "Sissy" did. And you couldn't have found a better older sister. . .always willing to sit and play with dolls or Candyland, when MTV might have been more to her liking. She passed her love of reading on to my youngest, and for a lot of years that was something that they treasured together.

Then, the dreaded day came when, at the age of 17, my older daughter went away to college. Not just 'away', but 500 miles away. There would be no weekends at home; only holidays and summer break. There would be no more tickle fights and cuddling up on the sofa to read every night. Things changed. At eight years old, my youngest took this as abandonment, and no amount of explaining or cajoling would make her think otherwise. Today, at the age of 25, she still holds onto that bitter feeling and resents her sister for it. It breaks my heart.

Some kind of 'scorekeeper-demon' took hold of my youngest at that time, too, and became her measuring stick for determining whether she was loved 'as much', or spoiled 'as much', or given 'as much' as her older sister. That is a scale which will never be balanced, merely because of the eight years between them. All of the opportunities and benefits and rewards that have been there for the oldest have also been there for the youngest, but it's all been eight years apart. Eight years of "It's not fair that she gets to go to England for a semester," when that same study-abroad opportunity would present itself when the youngest made it to her sophomore year in college, too. Eight years of "It's not fair that she got married and moved a thousand miles away. . .that she has a house. . .that she has two cars. . .that she. . . . .whatever and everything." Rather than enjoying the perks and possibilities of her own life's journey, my dearest younger daughter has lost so much by spending her energies worrying about what her sister has/is/can do. It breaks my heart.

Sadly, things worked out badly for my youngest when I became ill. She had been working with me -- partners with me, really -- in our little costume shop. That was her source of income and a large part of her identity, too, as she truly flourised in all aspects of the business. When I ultimately had to close the business, it not only took away my livelihood and income, but hers as well. With belt-tightening in order, I asked whether she wanted to move back home, because I could no longer help her with rent, food, an income, etc. Understandably, she wanted to keep her independence and chose not to come home. The alternative -- which we thoroughly discussed at the time -- would be for me to put all I owned into storage and go to stay with her, temporarily, until I recovered. Well, she has been our sole support and my personal hero for all these many, many months (which have grown into three years now). She has made me more proud than I could ever express in words; and more grateful than I'll ever be able to show her. That 'scorekeeper-demon' rears it's ugly head every now and again, though, and she can say some pretty hurtful, selfish, uncaring things. . . .most often to her sister. She resents that her big sister hasn't been able to contribute more, financially, and that I've had to complicate only her living situation. It breaks my heart.

It was never meant for me to be a burden to my children. . . . .either of them. That's not the natural order of things. While I probably could go to stay with my older daughter, the reality is that my medical care is here, my lawyers and lawsuit are here, my need is to be here. . .at least for now. Is it fair for my youngest daughter to shoulder the load? No. [Which is, for the most part, why I am no longer living with either of my daughter's.] Is it fair for her to blame and resent her sister because I cannot stay a thousand miles away, with her? No. It breaks my heart more than either of them will ever know.

There are eight years -- and a million light-years of misunderstanding and hurt feelings -- between my two daughter's. If I had died when I probably should have, would they be better friends now? Would they be closer? Would they remember how much they love each other? I don't know, and it breaks my heart.