Sisterly Love- the joys and frustrations of sibling togetherness

At our best

It happens every time now. My sister and I get together and there is just not enough space to accommodate our respective kingdoms of power. We both get used to doing things our way, to having our subjects jump to do our bidding, and, most importantly, to have our own sacred space in which to conduct state business. I undoubtedly expected some conflict this Christmas, but I did not expect it to happen as soon as it did- the second we stepped through the door of my parents’ house. I was dirty from traveling 16 hours and, per habit, wanted to take a shower before going to bed. She was dead tired and equally grumpy that I would dare to shower before going to bed in the room that we must share. I wanted to turn on a fan for some ambient noise to camouflage my creeping-to-bed footsteps. She was freezing cold.

I think we both cried ourselves to sleep with the frustration of it all. Evidently, my dear sister did not sleep well because the next morning she was still furious with me, and as it’s not the sort of treatment I’m accustomed to upon waking, I ended up in tears again. This time I was only glad that my guy was there for comfort. He’s really good at drying my tears. Thus began our vacation.

My sibling and I could no doubt work out our differences if we: a) had more sympathy for the other’s point of view, b) could talk about it without the situation escalating, or c) had similar ideas about manners and modes of behavior. Since neither a nor b nor c seemed to be true this Christmas, our fights went virtually unresolved for days. I admit to tiptoeing around her the majority of the time, fearing her wrath and the horrible sense of personal failure that accompanied it. I’m sure she has her own story as well.

There were basically two sister bonding instances during those weeks. The first was the day before leaving for Missouri. We spent at least an hour conferencing on the best way to get rid of a strange sore on my leg. She spent the better part of an hour poking around on my hairy skin with a sterilized needle. I’ll spare you all the gory details of blood and such, but I’m pretty sure it counted as sisterly love. Things were good between us for at least 24 subsequent hours.

The second bonding instance occurred in Missouri. It was a late-night conversation after we had both had naps too late in the day to be sleepy at the right time. Snug in the rather small bed that we had to share, we covered all sorts of topics- from childhood trauma to life as we know it. I learned things about her that I’m pretty sure I had never known before. Both of us happy the next day, I imagine that the honeymoon could have lasted at least 48 hours if I hadn’t committed the unpardonable sin against my sister by almost falling asleep in church…..

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