The Sibling Situation

I ate my cup of chili standing before the kitchen window, gazing out upon a sunny backyard.  In other rooms of the house, my children played in pairs, their happy chatter like music to my ears as I pondered earlier, less pleasant sibling interactions.

We were at the dedication of the new community garden.  Community leaders and members-at-large gathered behind a small local church to pray for the success of a project that will, God willing, bring our community together to help many in need.  It's a wonderful project, and as I tried to hear all the details, a -ahem - slight disturbance to my right caught my attention.  For some reason, two young men vied for the same position in the audience.  Beside me, they gently and not-so-gently nudged each other.  A subtle fist or two to the back may have been involved.  I hushed my boys.  I hushed them again.  I tried discreetly to separate them, a difficult task with an three-year-old who would rather have been running amok perched on my hip, and my other baby, Nikon, hanging around my neck.  Finally, one of the squabblers settled the matter by standing on my other side, a triumphant look shot at his brother.  "Ha, you may have won, but so did I!"

"Surely," I thought as I gazed out the window, "My siblings and I never acted like this.  Surely, we never made such scenes.  Surely, we were kind and loving toward one another, and especially in public!"

Or were we?

I honestly don't remember how we behaved in public, but I do remember a rather violent fight with one sister over who would make dinner.  (I won, by the way).  I also remember my other sister, the one who was always so sweet and nice and friendly, literally kicking a hole in my bedroom door after I ran in there to hide from her wrath.  I'm not sure what I'd done to her, but I'm sure it was something deserving a hole in my door.  With a ten year span between our births and with my leaving home when he was ten, my younger brother and I didn't have much occasion for such equally matched combat, but I'm sure we had our differences.  I've been told I wasn't too gracious about his arrival... or about a lot of things that happened when I was a child.

So, like my boys, my siblings and I weren't exactly lovey-dovey growing up.  We turned out alright, though.  My Wise and Wonderful Sister is one of my best friends, if a word like "friend" can encompass all that a sister is.  At any rate, we have an understanding.  We love each other dearly, and I think we might even like each other.  We talk several times a week and get our families together as often as we can.  And we've agreed that the best dinner plans involve letting our husbands cook for the kids while we enjoy a girls' night out together.  My other sister left this world as my constant companion and closest friend.  We spent five crazy, wonderful months sharing a home of our own.  She wasn't always easy to live with, of course, but she never kicked a hole in my door.  Instead, she stayed up late sharing her dreams with me and encouraging me in my own.  I still cry when I think of her absence from my dreams come true...  She would have been an awesome aunt.  Even my brother and I, though we don't talk often, get along now.  He's turned into a pretty neat guy, and yeah...  I'd like to keep him.  I might not have been crazy about him when my parents brought his jiggling cheeks home from the hospital, but he's my brother, my only brother, and I realize now how very special that is.

And I wonder now, thinking of my own children, if their squabbles might indeed be the very thing that will make them lasting friends.  I wonder if their episodes of alternating tumult and peace will cement in their hearts the understanding that a part of them exists for one another, a part of them understands and is understood by one another alone.  I wonder, too, if the fighting and apologizing and forgiving and forgetting will forge them into adults who, having been strengthened by the experiences of making peace with one another, are able to humble themselves to forgive and be forgiven.  I don't know, but I pray all of this is so.