Today is my sister’s birthday. I had visions of going shopping for the perfect gift. A necklace perhaps, a pair of earrings maybe. A plaque with some heartfelt poem about the bond that comes from sisterly affection.
But we are no ordinary sisters. We are sisters who share the same mother who under different circumstances may have shared childhoods but in fact were perfect strangers until adulthood. As fate would have it we know very little about one another.
If it were not for the persistance of my sister I would never have met my mother. If it were not for my sister I would have no tie at all to my original family. My two brothers want nothing to do with meeting me. They must get the ability to pretend life fits into a neat little box and nothing exists outside of it from our mother. Fortunately (or maybe unfortunately depending on how you look at it) I did not get that character trait. It must be environmental.
My sister has tried over the years to find a place to put me in the box. She knows there is life outside of the box but has not the skills to think for herself long enough to see how beautiful life can be on the outside. It takes a great deal of courage to think for one’s self particularly when it goes against the wishes of those you hold most dear. She has not found that courage and so I remain alone, on the outside looking in, knowing that life on the outside is better but still longing for a glimpse of what’s inside.
My intention was to go and pick out a card to send but the energy it took even THINKING about finding the “sister who chooses not to get to know you, to stand up and do the right thing, but whom you love all all the same birthday section” became impossible.
In the end I sent an e-card. With all my love…..May this day bring you great joy and may the coming year bring all of the happiness in the world….love, your sister.
Happy Birthday K.
I wonder what my mother will do for my sister today. Lunch perhaps? A shopping trip? A “To my one and only daughter” card?
My birthday is in a couple of weeks. Big fat hoorah. The day that brought into this world a baby girl.
And nobody celebrated.
I used to HATE the fact that my parents celebrated the day they brought me home from the orphanage but I am beginning to think maybe it’s not such a bad idea. They sing happy birthday to me on that day and it used to drive me NUTS because it really ISN’T my birthday. Now, I think what the heckl. Why NOT enjoy the fact that my existance was eventually celebrated.
What’s in a birthday anyway if nobody recognizes it as an actual event? If my own mother denies my existance?
If a tree falls in the forest and nobody is around to hear it does it make a noise?