Sibling Woes
I recently picked up three of my grandchildren from school. Marie, aged 9 joined her older sister and younger brother as we made our way to the ice cream store. Since it was a beautiful Fall afternoon, we decided to head to a nearby park. En route, I heard Marie’s older sister telling her about how so-and-so did this and so-and-so did that in school. Marie listened like the best confidant does; asking this and chuckling in solidarity to that. Once we arrived at the park, Marie’s 4-year-old little brother was hesitant to climb the steps towards the highest slide. I told him he didn’t have to do anything he didn’t want to do. Marie, on the other hand, gently encouraged, welcomed trepidation, and promised to be with him all the way to the top. “Let’s do it together,” she playfully said. A few moments later, smiles and cheers rose from the heights as they giggled their way down the spiral slide. Arms were raised in triumph.
As sweat accumulated and the fatigue of the day caught up, Marie’s younger brother melted into tears after wanting the same stick Marie found. She gave in. Simultaneously, Marie’s older sister relentlessly won the running duels. The compounding defeats finally came to a head, and Marie and I found ourselves sitting together on a bench.
“I hate being the middle child,” she said with her arms crossed tightly over herself as if to keep zipped her building emotions. After a few moments of silence, she began the litany of middle child complaints. I heard it all; from not being able to stay up as late as her sister to the frequent deferment to her brother’s Spider Man preference in all things. I get it. I was a middle child as well.
Every birth ordered child has their unique set of grievances. If my oldest daughter were here, she’d have quite a bit to say about the expectations we had for her from not wearing strapless tube tops to looking after her younger siblings. Contrast that with the fact that my youngest daughter was often late for her afternoon kindergarten start time because we enjoyed doing morning errands together. However, that same youngest child was left home alone at the age of 3 after a hectic early Saturday morning soccer start time for her 3 older siblings. Let’s just say when I saw my husband arrive at the soccer field with the dog but no Holly, we both panicked. “I THOUGHT YOU HAD HER!” we both screamed as he ran back to his car making a b-line for home. I’m happy to say there was no harm done, but I guarantee we would not have left our oldest at home alone at the age of 3. In the middle were our two sons. Only God knows what they got away with. At this point, I don’t want to know.
I recall the multitude of times my mom, an only child, reminded my siblings and I of how fortunate we were to have each other. She longed all her life for what she gave to us; the gift of siblings. Sometimes living with brothers or sisters is not always pretty or perfect. The truth is the longest relationships you will ever have are with your siblings. Your siblings are your posse, your squad, and the ones who will travel all of life with you. My brother, sister and I know that very well.
I’m sure Marie quickly reset herself into the happy and bouncy rhythm of her life following our play date at the park. I know this because I know how much she’s loved by everyone around her, especially her siblings. They are so fortunate to have her right there in the middle of it all.