My Middle Sister

It's my middle sisters' birthday today. The sister who is three years my senior. She's the one who famously, used to lock me in our parents room when we were young and make me learn hymns. That one. I would often take my time getting dressed in the morning so that I could see which clothes she picked and then I would pick clothes that matched hers as closely as I could manage. She found this annoying. She is also the one who found me at the side of the house, hiding, when I'd fallen into a river nearby and got swept away and had been rescued by some locals from our area. She convinced me that it was the right thing to tell mum the truth and helped me pluck up the courage to enter the house to explain away my adventure. 

I used to sit outside her bedroom door and watch her read just because I wanted to be near her. She also found this to be annoying. When at age eleven she left for boarding school, I pined for her. I remember dreaded car journeys to drop her off at school, with a lump in my throat the whole way and pinned as closely to her as I could get in the back seat of the car. I would watch out for the splash of my occasional  tear hitting the leather seat and the sun beating down on us drying it up in no time. I remember trying to make the journey fun, trying to laugh but feeling the hard hitting reality that we were about to be separated by nearly eighty miles and for months at a time. 

Once, when we were teenagers and she was no longer at boarding school but was as usual pre-occupied reading a book, and when I felt that she had neglected me for far too long, I used my mum's lighter and kept pretending to light her socks. I never seemed to grow tired of trying to pry her away from what I considered distractions from me. I was, shall we say, pretty persistent. So again, after some time had passed, I'd take another strike at the lighter getting closer and closer to her sock, trying to motivate her to put her book down. Well, eventually she did look up from her book because I had been a little careless and struck that lighter too close to her sock and suddenly I was filled with panic as I saw a blue flame with an orange edge travel up her sock towards the hem of her trousers. I leapt on top of her and threw my flailing arms upon her feet with tears in my eyes and a tightening pain in my chest. She casually looked up and said the words 'I don't want to talk to you, I'm reading my book, go away!' But then, she looked at me and saw the upset in my eyes and began to pick up the scent of her now singed socks. She glanced down and noticed the orange pattern left by the extinguished flame and she guffawed in shock at what she had just narrowly escaped. After shock had left me, I smiled to myself, I had after all got her to look up from her blasted book. Yes! 

I pined once again when she was nineteen and left for university. I pined for her at many different times in my life. I longed for her attention many times too. I received it many many times also and drank it in greedily. I pine for her even now, when life is busy and we don't speak for days and weeks, days and weeks. Of course it doesn't matter how many days or weeks or months or years that pass by because we share all of this. It's all stored up. The good stuff, the bad stuff, the funny stuff, the cringey. All of it. I think back to promises we made each other as children and how inconceivable it was back then, to think that we could go these days and weeks without talking and teasing and laughing and fighting and making up and talking and teasing and laughing at each other, at one another, together and apart and all at once. And when I think about it, it's not so different. Yes, there are changes but yes we are still together, still apart, still one another and all at once. And you know, if we lived in the same house now, I'd still sit outside her room. Happy Birthday Ali Pali Poodle! 

She was so darn cute!

Yep. That's her on the right. She was one of those clever, self motivated, geeky kids who thought about her plans for the future!

Linking up to:

My Sister, Myself

Me on my 3rd b'day with my sister 'A' 1978

When I was a little girl, I couldn't imagine doing anything without my right hand - my big sister 'A'. We'll call her 'A' since I think she'd like some anonymity and having a sibling with a blogging penchant can I imagine be a bit annoying at times, so I carry on much as I started ... as the annoying little sister! With three years in age between us we regularly played catch up with common interests and similarities. I at times accelerated beyond my years and experience to follow her and she in turn would often freeze time, allowing me to join her in her journey at its different phases. We weren't always in sync but we were always entwined, very much a presence in each others lives.

Change is often difficult and I can still clearly remember how painful it was to let go when 'A' left home for university. It was a reminder of those days back in Ghana when I waved her and my other siblings off to boarding school, bracing myself for months of separation at a time ... So painful when it feels like your right hand is being ... well, cut off! I also remember when I met my hubby and how this too brought great change to the dynamic with 'A'. Especially because before this significant other 'appeared on the scene, 'A' had been my friend, my plus one, my big sister, my everything.I have been thinking about my relationship with 'A' a lot recently because I am aware once again of change.

At present I rarely speak to 'A' and this feels strange. We have always found the time before although I admit there have been phases that have been quieter than others. There has been no falling out, there has been no significant event ... it's just the curse of busyness! We are now both busy mothers, she has a demanding job that she juggles alongside being mummy and wife and seemingly we have fallen victim to 'juggling'!!! We are out of the regular habit of being in touch and as a result then you are always playing catch up. If you send a text, part of it doesn't make sense because you didn't know part of the information (which incidentally could be as significant as deciding to change career or discovering a health problem) and in a quick response it is too convoluted to start asking questions. When you do have a window to talk you either have a child hanging off one of your limbs and can either not hear the conversation or concentrate on it or it is seldom and precious time alone that you can't quite surrender knowing that any minute now there will be a child ready to take position once again attaching themselves to one of your body parts.

Had it not been for a conversation that I had with a near stranger recently I probably wouldn't be writing these words. But said near stranger described to me how much she missed her sister who recently passed away. She described details of how they played as children, infamous fights they'd had, times that they had offered each other comfort and support. Funny things they'd said and done and called each other over the years, in essence the 'always thereness' of their relationship. Near stranger's stories took me back to a memory from childhood. When 'A' and I were young, we shared a room and as we were drifting off to sleep, I would often say 'A, if I died would you cry?'. She would always get cross and question why I would ask something so stupid. For years I persisted and when I was around 9 and therefore she was 12, she finally admitted that 'Yes, if I died, she would cry'! This response came with great relief and great satisfaction, she did love me!!! My absence would be noted by her and that's all that I wanted to hear. It's interesting that what was so important to me back then, is still so important now. I look back on those days that I would lie outside 'A's' bedroom door and wait for an opportune moment to have a conversation, with her sometimes ignoring me for what felt like hours and days but what was more likely minutes. I remember specific events, like the time I was flicking a lighter close to her comfy socks in a bid to distract her from her ever present all consuming book when suddenly I was watching was a blue flame climbing over her feet!!! The ignition of the flame was in error and I worked furiously to put those runaway flames out, choking back tears only for her to finally look up at me with a bored look on her face when she picked up on the burnt socks scent!!!!

Sometimes I worry that in the busyness of everyday, that I might not find the right time to tell a loved one that I love them, that I have noticed change, that I care about that noted change, that I have noticed time slipping by and away. I long for my boys to witness the closeness that I experience with my siblings but it's difficult because we so rarely see each other. This is the stuff of life, the stuff of growing up and growing apart, growing and separating into new pods, our own family units. Change for some is exhilarating, exciting, challenging and so forth, I don't believe I am one that sees it quite so. I mourn, I acclimatise, I submit, I accept and finally I embrace change. So, to begin the process today I am mourning. Mourning my childhood, my younger self and perhaps saying farewell to 'being the little sister' after all these years. Perhaps when I finally got round to that catch up chat with 'A' last night, I should have asked one last time 'If I died, would you cry?'.

Three Sisters

me, debbie and alison

Do you know the sort of vulnerable feeling where you have a bit of a lump in your throat? Sadly, I've had that lump in throat feeling for days now. A good friend of mine had a most crushing and tragic experience that has just left myself(and those close to her of course)devastated. It's one of those things where you carry on with life and go about your daily business and all of a sudden you're caught off guard and the tears come silently from nowhere.

I think I used to be a 'cryer'. It didn't take much for the tears to come(in private at least)but I think that was when I was younger and generally more angry and angsty. In recent times I can't really recall feeling that way. At the moment I really dislike the involuntary nature of how I am feeling. Anyone that knows me will understand this as I am a person who likes to feel in control(although not a control freak- I'm NOT!). I did feel incredibly soothed singing and worshipping at church today but swallowing is still a little more difficult than normal ...

Whenever I feel like this I automatically think about family and in particular my two big sisters. For the last few days I have been missing them terribly. They are not too far away but the busyness of life means that unusually I haven't spoken to either of them as regularly as I normally would in this past week or even shared my sadness about my friend. It made me realize how much we depend on each other and how sharing stuff with each other has been so vital over the years, especially when you feel you can't share stuff with anyone else. Sad stuff, evil stuff, stuff about dented pride, triumphs, concerns, uncertainty, all of it.

These two ladies have been my everything for what feels like forever. I couldn't list what they mean to me nor what they have done FOR and TO me! Well ... I suppose a list could help to give you an idea, you know I can't resist! So, in no particular order here are some recalled memories, I won't mention which sister did what, you know what you did girls!

Twenty things about me and my sisters(sorry mum, or rather)my sisters and I.

1. one summer when you got back from boarding school you convinced mum to cut my hair. Mum agreed.

2. we were sharing a room and EVERY day you would leave your wet towel on my bed.

3. once, I convinced you to carry on pouring coke into a glass telling you it would NOT overspill. You believed me.

4. you took me to see 'In bed with Madonna' the day I found out I'd only passed four gcse's.

5. you drove a ridiculous amount of miles and with no information tracked me down at the right hospital when you heard I had been assaulted.

6. you gave me a very serious talking to when I announced that I wanted to have my nose pierced for my 16th birthday. You were way more serious than mum!

7. only since I have had children myself have you stopped holding my hand when I cross the road.

8. throughout our teenage years you would make me pizza's from scratch on request.

9. you often buy two identical items of clothing at a time and drop one round to me because you know how much I hate shopping(it's the best service!)

10. when I was still at school and you were working we used to catch the same bus and on that bus we named all the regulars, our favorites were 'doesn't wanna go to school', 'pat butcher' and 'cheers'(who you later got in on with, much to my amusement!)

11. you insisted on giving me those extra maths and hymn lessons on the veranda in Agege.

12. you read all the naughty bits out of 'love's avenging heart', I was seven and you were ten.

13. you explained to me that the book was called 'love's avenging heart' and NOT 'loves of engine heart'.

14. we used to stay up till really late watching live boxing matches.

15. your impressions of Apollo Creed dying make my sides hurt till this day!

16. your impressions of Tina Turner dancing.

17. whenever we go to the cinema you ask 'what's happening?' in a loud whisper whilst rubbing the back of your neck and re-shuffling to try and get comfortable.

18. you told me that Grandma Peppermint had told you, that you were her favorite. I don't believe you!

19. when I was 13 and you were 19 I made a series of new holes in your new and expensive black leather belt using the sharp point of a kitchen knife. You were displeased.

20. you used to sit in gran's old chair to read and you would ignore me and so I used to regularly lean you backwards in that chair. You would carry on reading with the blood rushing to your head.

Ali pali poodle(the middle sister who is three years my senior)just phoned. I broke my sad news about my friend to her and she also shed some almost silent tears, we then spoke about ... just about everything under the sun whilst rejoicing in the fact that our children were sleeping long enough for this conversation to linger. And do you know what? I can barely feel that lump in my throat now. Thanks sis!