Old enough to vote

[fbhjr]

Tonight will be 18 years since I last heard from my sister Anne.

In many ways she was the most important person in my life growing up.  Yes,
my parent fed me, clothed me and all that.  And, once past the age of two,
my sister was only home for a few weeks each year.  She is 15 years older
than me, so by the time I became self aware (September 2, 1968 at about
4:30 in the afternoon) she was already off to college, driving and
generally a “grown up”.  So, from my perspective she was always more of a
contemporary of my parents anyhow.

My sister was the person that I admired.  She was the one I wanted to be
like when I grew up. (Of course I sit here an engineering manager like my
dad.  Working 11 hours a day like my dad.  Writing every day in a journal,
like my dad.)  She was the one that I wanted to be proud of me.  (I’m not
saying I didn’t want my parents to be proud of me.  But, even as a kid I
knew my father would never say it and my mother would use my wanting it as
leverage against me.)

I remember taking her to a supermarket on that trip I made to see her back
in 1990.  (I was there with a car, why make her take the bus?  Even when
she was mad at me we were both practical.)
She carried a list with her of companies that did things she considered
unethical and wouldn’t buy anything from those companies.
I mention this, and my admiration of her convictions to my mother when I
returned.
“As if one person makes a difference,” my mother said.  “She should just
forget that nonsense and buy what she needs.”
“If more people did this sort of thing the world might be a better place,”
I replied.
“Stupid waste of time.”
I look at this whole thing with Chick-Fil-A the last few weeks and wonder.

Intellectually I understand her need to break off and start a new life.  To
leave the pain behind and start over is a fine goal.  She was a pawn in a
game between her mother and my father.  I can’t blame her for leaving the
board and not coming back.  And, I can’t begrudge the desire to start gain
for my sister.

But, I also can’t deny that there is part of me that says “when you were
throwing out your old life, wasn’t it worth keeping me?”
I understand this is a greedy part of me that does no good for my sister.

And, there is every chance in the world my sister’s view of our time
together 40 or so years ago is very different from mine.  To her I was
probably the little brother who insisted on following her everywhere and
wouldn’t leave her alone.
I wasn’t totally without use.  She has an abysmal sense of direction and I
don’t.  So even 40 years ago I could show her how to get places when she
didn’t remember.

That’s the part of me that is hardest to restrain in all of this.  The part
that says “If I prove myself more useful then she will want to have me
around.”
But I know that’s not true.  Other than her bad sense of direction she’s
more than capable of taking care of herself.  She has, to the best of my
knowledge, been living alone for the last 43 years since she got out of
college.

Maybe a younger brother is something you might like to have.  But, when
you’re packing the lifeboat you put in things you need.  And, I am not
willing to overload her lifeboat as much as I stand on the edge of the
water and hope to see it coming back.  Even 18 years later.

Comments

[fbhjr.livejournal.com]

This is less "baby with the bathwater" and more "I was thrown into the escape pod just before the ship went into warp. Sadly I find the planet where I was left hasn't even discovered the principals of FTL drive."