Identity

Having siblings was never my choice.  Everyday, despite anything I do,  I have four siblings.  During my early childhood I very often disputed the fact that they were my siblings.  Being that I didn't really like anyone from the age of eleven till the age of thirteen, I tried to disown all of my siblings at one point or another.  Despite all of my extensive efforts at that time, they remain my siblings.  During my terrible preteen and teenage years, I would never have thought that I would have become as close to my two youngest sisters as I am now.  The relationship I have built with them has become something that is truly a gift.  I only wish I had realized just how much of a gift it was before I left for college.  

I have no problem admitting that I cried my eyes out once my family left.  As a self proclaimed Mamma's boy and a homebody, I like home and all of the comforts associated with it.  Seeing my parents leave was tough, but saying goodbye to my sisters Anna and Julia broke my heart.  They sobbed before they were even close to leaving, but when my parents had to pry my sister from my waist, all I can say was that I was unprepared.  Since I said goodbye to my sisters I have talked to them almost four days a week, every week.  Hearing their excitement in their voices is quite honestly the best way to start and finish my day.  

A few days ago, I received a package in the mail containing the usual food items.  This time, however, I was lucky enough to get two letters and two stuffed animals from Anna and Julia.  In the letters they wrote how much they missed me, how they couldn't wait to visit, and that I needed to make sure I fed the stuffed animals everyday.  This has to be one of the best moments of my career as a brother.  I didn't realize until then the impact and importance I had in their lives.  We all know how we feel about our family members, but what we don't know is how they feel about us.  

Coming to the realization that I meant that much to them has had a profound effect on me.  When I talk to them I truly listen to their daily lives.  I try to get involved, and feel their excitement, and share in their happiness, and often times sadness.  I understand the gift I have in them, and I understand their love.  I wish I had known all of this before.  I wish it hadn't taken so many years to understand the true depth of the relationship.  Yet in learning this through separation, I have found myself.  I am many things to many people, but at the end of the day, my true identity is as a family member.  As we struggle to find out who we are in a very chaotic world, step back and think about your family.  Put more emphasis on your family life, because family is our true origin and identity.  

Is the grass always greener on the other side?

I am the the oldest of five children.  For eighteen long years I have been the undisputed monarch in the land of siblings.  Despite years of strife and war, I continue to maintain my dominance over my siblings.  Being at the coveted position as oldest quite honestly is a mixed  bag.  At times it can be the best experience, with wonderful rewards to make it worth the work.  On the other hand, being the oldest can truly be an unpleasant position.

Before I make any complaints about being the oldest, I should state that my life is pretty darn good.  Any whining about being the oldest is fairly trivial.  However, at times it can be exhausting and just plain not fun.  Much like the super star actor, or the big time sports star, being at the top makes for a long fall.  As the oldest sibling I have increased responsibilities in regards to chores and helping around the house.  I must always set the example, be more responsible, and be "the better person".  One day after track practice I was supposed to pick up my little sisters, Anna and Julia, from their field hockey practice. Somehow, I let it slip my mind, and I paid for my mistake not by getting in trouble, but because my sisters were very upset about being forgotten. For a few days I wasn't the cool brother, but rather I was the brother who let his little sisters down. Being the big brother can be a tough roll to fulfill, and it is even harder when I don't live up to the expectations.

Being the oldest is pretty unique.  Everything I did was special to my family members.  Not only am I the oldest child, but I am the first grandchild on my mom's side.  To put it in rather arrogant terms, I was a big deal.  When I do something, whether it be in sports, school, or in general life, I am usually the first one to have done it.  I am the first child to have graduated high school, the first to have gone to college, the first to have learned to drive and so on.  Basically my family made a big deal out of everything because I was the first to do such things.  Being the oldest came with simple but important privileges like being at the head of the dinner table, going to work with dad, and learning to shoot and fish. I am lucky enough to have my siblings look up to me and want to do the things I do.  One of my saddest, yet best days of being a brother was the day my sisters Anna and Julia cried when they dropped me off at college. It broke my heart, yet at the same time it made all the responsibility and pressure of being an older brother worth it.

Is the grass always greener on the other side?   I have no idea because I have never been there.  I will always be the oldest.  We always think there is a better position to be in. We must simply realize that our side of the hill is green enough, and that we will never be on the other side.

Sibling Rivalry

Being one of five children has never been the easiest situation.  There is always a wait, always a line, always someone else talking to Mom when you need her, and therefore a perfect reason to fight.  I have three sisters and one brother, and I can honestly say that sibling rivalries are perhaps one of my favorite things about being a brother.  This may seem strange, and it is.

My sister Abby, who is sixteen years old, and I have one of the strongest relationships that we swear is from 14 years of loathing each other.  From the day Abby was born, I had a problem with her.  As a two year old, I was in constant trouble for smacking my baby sister, making faces at her, and purposefully bothering her at every opportunity.  As I grew older and more bold, I commonly would pick her up and drop her on purpose.  I have no idea what drove me to such drastic and brutal methods, but my parents truly believe it was due to the fact that I liked being the only child.  And as we grew older, the hostility between us only grew.

She, to her credit, was much more civil to me than I ever was to her.  Most of the rivalry was created in my mind, while she longed for me to say a word to her that wasn't uttered in breathless impatience or anger.  We spent hours sitting on the couch together sobbing, as my parents forced us to hold hands as a punishment.  We hurt each other, and we constantly strove to surpass the other's achievements.  It was in trying to best each other, though,  that we began to grow closer.  Instead of yelling and competing, we spent time together, and for the first time, I realized that she wasn't all that bad.  She truly was a fun person to be around, but I had been too blind and consumed in my own arrogance to see it.

Why is this one of my favorite things about being a brother?  Now that these rivalries has passed me, I can look back with my sister and laugh about how truly ignorant and childish we were.  Even more entertaining though, is watching my other siblings act just as I did when I was their age.

Many families have a history of sibling relationships.  Very often, when I speak to my parents, aunts, uncles, and other families, they all have stories of great climactic battles between siblings.  The conflicts between themselves and their brothers and sisters are sources of happiness and laughs.  Sibling rivalries at a young age seemed so important.  Yet as we grow older, blessed by the wisdom of age, we can look back on the memories with fondness and humor.   Perhaps my sister and I did waste many years together.  Despite this, neither of us would go back and change a thing, because our rivalry helped us grow closer.  Those of us with siblings can all relate.  The antics of the rivalries we had can be looked upon as sources of true joy and the roots of strong family relationships.