My Sister, Diane
I recently got to spend some time with my sister, Diane — first at a wedding, then on a long, 8-hour drive to her home and then for a short visit with her and her son, Tim. I also met her boyfriend, David, who asked about me about growing up with Diane.
Diane was sufficiently older (3 years and 2 weeks) that she was always more competent at everything than I was. (Don’t let her persuade you that that is still true!) From climbing up cliffs in Ontario to pick blueberries on our vacations, to back flips off the high diving board, to reading … she was always ahead. I competed, but with the built in excuse of being younger and not expected to win. So, I could relax, learn as much as I could from [watching] her, do my best and let go of the results. It was a wonderful way to grow. You had someone blazing the trail, like a soldier walking “point” in front of you — leaving you less likely to get shot, you know.
Not only that, but she broke in my parents. They were much more stern with her. By the time I came along, I simply got away with more, or at least I got away with it earlier than she did. Part of that was my learning from her what worked (i.e., parental management skills). Part of it was their exhaustion and realizing that I was the last child so precedent didn’t really matter anymore. And part of it was simple 1950s / 1960s sexism — I was a boy and didn’t need as much of their “protection.”
Anyway, we were competitive and did tangle as siblings do. But I do love her and appreciate all the support she’s given me, especially in my adult life. She was a key friend during my divorce in 1979 … a terrible time for me. And she’s always been super-supportive of my being a part of the lives of Tim and Heather.
We had a good time, growing together, both as kids and now.