SIBS

Disclaimer:  When I was ten years old, I saw the classic Japanese film, Roshomon.  Yes, I was just a kid & it had subtitles & the message was very sophisticated – that people can share the same situation yet each experience it very differently – but it made sense to me.  With that in mind, please note that my comments about my siblings, the people whose voices were often the strongest & most powerful in my life, are how I experienced family life. 

With the years, I’ve come to see the many blessings I’ve received through my family.  In fact, if I was to share with you all the times that my surviving siblings did or said things that wounded my feelings or left me frustrated, it would probably take about as much time as having a cup of café au lait at Be Well Bakery/Café, along with one of Maddie’s delectable cheese rolls. 

Then again, if I was to share with you all the amazing moments I experienced, all the incredible worlds that opened, all the invaluable things I learned through having them as my older brothers & sister, we’d probably be down there from the moment Adriann opens the door in the morning to when Ryan closes it in the late afternoon.  And even then, there’d probably still be things left unsaid.

There are terrific advantages being so much younger than the rest of the family – Peter is fourteen years older, Mike is ten, Mim is eight, and Ian (who died at eleven) was four.  From my cradle, crib & carriage, I experienced all of them as individuals & within our family dynamic. Maybe that's why, from an early age, I had what’s turned out to be a pretty precise bead on what the general pecking order was, whose opinion mattered most & whose the least, who you wanted to please & who you could basically ignore.  It rarely helped help me navigate our family waters very well, but it did help me make sense of things over the years.

Having much older siblings opened up opportunities which I happily took.  While most of my classmates seemed to have lives more or less centered around our small town, I was out exploring the larger world, guided by my older sibs.  I must have been in middle school when Mike set sail from New York City on the original Queen Mary.  Dad had to work & Mom couldn’t make it, but they took me out of school so Peter could take me up, along with Mim, to bid Mike him bon voyage.  What a fabulous introduction to New York City! To see one of the world’s greatest ocean liners, to walk through the grand public rooms, to soak in the history.  What an experience!  It’s impossible to describe seeing Manhattan’s docks, the huge ships waiting to take on passengers, the hustle & bustle of people getting  baggage taken on board & getting passports checked & saying their farewells to loved ones.  It was a sight, a sense that I’ve never forgotten.

Peter

Peter, not only escorted Mim & his little sis to see off Mike, a couple years later he took us to see the New York World’s fair – with a press pass!  We got to skip all the long lines & were thoroughly pampered at each pavilion’s VIP lounge.  Alas, as often happens when I am with Peter, I managed to be an embarrassment.  His excitement over taking us to the Swedish pavilion for lunch – a genuine smorgasbord – turned to mortification when I balked at filling my plate with pickled herring & smoked salmon, sticking instead to the one food I recognized: Jell-O.

Mike 

By the time Mike cast off on the Queen Mary, he was already a seasoned sailor.  He joined the Navy as a senior, serving in the reserve until his high school graduation.  Mike had the great good luck to be assigned to the USS Enterprise, the first nuclear-powered air craft carrier & the largest ship in the fleet.  He was part of the Enterprise’s first crew – a “plank owner” – so Mom & Dad were invited to attend the great ship’s commissioning at Newport News.  Such exciting & proud times for our family.  But excitement turned to fear & worry when the ship broke off its shake-down cruise to be part of the Cuban Blockade.  The nation watched & waited & prayed. 

Mike’s Navy days were just the beginning of his travels.  After leaving the service – under very dramatic circumstances – he went back to Europe for an extended visit.  He came back home to work for Dad for a while, then was off to San Francisco.  Back he came to work for Dad again, before heading off to Australia’s sunny shores.  He had a glorious time Down Under.  Mike loved the people & felt right at home.

Good thing, since he met his future wife, an Australian lass, on the voyage home.  Back he came to work for Dad, he & Kerry were married, and they settled down for a time.  But the lure of Australia was too hard to resist – off they went, living near Sydney, in what turned out to be a just-right move for them both. 

Mim

In the mid 1960s, Mim was accepted for a summer workshop at Greenwich Village’s prestigious Circle in the Square Theater .  How proud we all were of her –  the selection process was highly competitive but MY sister made the cut!  Thanks to Mim, I got to experience the Village at the height of its hippie days, be right in the middle of it.  The memory that seems to link together all the others is of staying at her dorm room at Joe Weinstein Residence Hall and having her send me down, at night, from 10^th Street to 8^th to pick up a pizza with the strict orders, “Don’t smile at anyone!” 

It was Mim who made sure that I had a vinyl mini-skirt when they were all the rage, who bought me a paper dress & encouraged me to be part of the larger hip culture! 

Through Mim’s eyes, I saw San Francisco in the late 1960s, where she lived for a while with my brother, Michael, who had settled there for the time being.  I vicariously experienced the small “mountain” college she attended in north-west Georgia, her time at the University of Houston, her extended trips to Hawaii & Ireland.  Through Mim, I had a sense that there was so much out there to be experienced – if you had the courage to dare.

 Ian 

The sibling closest to me in age was Ian, who died when I was seven.  His shocking death left me with my first profound insight about life.  The minister who was delivering his memorial service had the tender wisdom to take me aside for some private time, to ask if I had any questions.  “What will Ian look like when I see him again?” I asked.  Ken Stroh had the insight to realize I was worried that he would look as he did when he died, after an accidental shooting.  He put his arm around me, drew me close and explained that when I next saw Ian, I wouldn’t recognize him at all from his appearance, because he wouldn’t look as he had on earth, our human body being only temporary, but that I would recognize him instantly from sensing his loves, which would never change.  It was a rather mature thing to say to a little child, but I got it immediate & it’s stayed with me always.  We are not our bodies, we are our loves.

It took almost fifty years for me to realize how much Ian & I had a lot in common. There I was, playing with the tiny kittens of a feral cat John & I had taken under our wing.  Jada had set up a nursery under a large gardening shed at a neighbor’s across the street.  There she sat, basking in the sun, letting me play peek-a-boo with her precious brood.  As we looked at each other, sharing a glance of mutual appreciation, it hit me like a lightning bolt - my gosh, I am a cat whisperer!  All of my life, I'd heard tales of Ian's uncanny affinity for cats, especially his beloved Parley.  All those years, and I never guessed it was a gift we shared.  Imagine - 55 years old, 48 years after Ian passed, and there I was, sitting outside a garden shed, playing with soft puffs of 4-legged fur, feeling a sense of family connection I'd never felt before.

In Retrospect

Each of my siblings has given me so much.  These are just mere snatches out of countless moments.  What I’ve learned through watching how they’ve lived, from experiencing how they interact with others, from how they approach their worldly uses – all these things illuminated what I wanted to duplicate as best I could, what I wanted to avoid as much as  possible. 

Each of my siblings helped me develop the sense of devotion to & delight in relationship as something more than simply genetics.   They helped me develop a sense of joy being helpful to others, not for what I could get out of it but for the sheer fun of doing it.  From them, I’ve learned that it doesn’t matter how others feel about you, but how you feel about others. 

So many memories I could share. So many special insights gained, so many lessons learned from having them as part of my family.  It hasn’t always been easy – for any of us – but it has always been a blessing. 

I don't believe an accident of birth makes people sisters or brothers.

It makes them siblings, gives them mutuality of parentage.

Sisterhood & brotherhood is a condition people have to work at.

- Maya Angelou -