Thursday, October 31, 2013

Just Like My Sisters...


As I re-read my last Blog, I couldn't help to reflect on my life as the youngest of three sisters.  The memories that came, made me smile, made me laugh, made me cry, made angry, made me sad and made me very glad...just as my sisters have over the past 50+ years.

I was born January 5th, 1961, just 3 years and 5 months after my oldest sister Shelly and only a mere 17 months after my older sister, Kathy.  I was the baby in a family of babies, and our Mother had her hands full.  My sister Shelly thought of me as "her baby" and enjoyed cuddling, teaching, scolding and overall taking care of me from the moment I came home.  My sister Kathy just tolerated me, because after all, at 17 months she was still just a baby herself. 

Throughout the years my sisters have been my best friends, my biggest cheerleaders, my sounding boards, my protectors, my arch nemesis and my closest companions.  They have coddled me, pampered me, teased me, hated me, loved me, pushed me, taken care of me, and challenged me like no others.  It is their praise that matters the most to me and their criticism that still hurts the most.  Yet through it all, I am forever blessed to have them in my life.

Growing up I wanted to be "just like my sisters".  I wanted to do what they were doing, I wanted to be who they were, I wanted to dress like them, I wanted to date like them and I wanted to be heard like them.  I wanted to get the attention they were getting, and was miffed when that didn't happen.  I would pout so much when they got to do something that I couldn't, that my parents took to calling me "Picklepuss" and "Sara Burnhart".

In our family of three sisters, Shelly was the oldest.  She was the one who "mothered" me throughout most of my life, and I would have given my eye teeth to be like her.  She was tall, slender (skinny really) with long straight hair.  The opposite to my shorter stature, somewhat "chubby" frame and after age 7, very curly and unruly hair.   She always had her nose in a book, and thus she was referred to as "the smart one" at family gatherings.   Little did I know that was her way of compensating for her shyness.

Kathy was the middle sister, who was very gregarious, somewhat awkward within herself, yet always willing to put herself out there to make others laugh.  Kathy and I shared a room throughout our childhood and thus she tolerated me (probably because she had no choice:) though through our younger years I don't think she liked me much.  Lol   She too always had a book in hand, but for as long as I could remember, they were books of riddles, jokes or plays, like she was teaching herself "how" to be funny. It worked, as Kathy was considered "the funny one" in the family.  She was always in performance mode, which may explain why she became the "actor" in the family.

Then there was me, the "baby".  I grew up in my early years being told I was the "pretty one" (though we are ALL pretty) because I had big blue eyes, long blonde hair and a way of pouting that made adults smile.  Because I always felt that my sisters got more attention, I would go out of my way to be seen by others....always singing, talking, or crying...whichever got me noticed.  As with my sisters, my methods got me noticed, but not always in the ways desired.


As we grew, my sisters and I kept each other company when there was no one else around.  We took care of each other when one of us got hurt or was sick, and we even cheered each other on as one of us worked toward achieving a dream of our own.  We also called each other names when our parents weren't listening, we ganged up two on the other when our parents couldn't hear us (them against me, me/Shelly against Kathy, me/Kathy against Shelly) and we beat each other up when no one was around to see.  Yet through it all, when the chips were down, we did the best we could to be there for the others.  My sisters were much better at this than I, but still I tried. 

When I was in Kindergarten, I was invited to perform in the 5th Grade Christmas Show to sing "All I want for Christmas Is my Two Front Teeth"...I remember being so proud that my big sister Shelly came to my class to pick me up for the performance.  I wasn't proud of myself, I was proud that SHE was my Big Sister.  I think she was proud of me too, just not so happy that I got included in her Show.

I remember when Shelly tried out for the part of Dolly in the High School Musical her freshman year.  We all learned the words to every song (I can still sing them all 40 years later:) and every step to the choreography.  When she lost the part to a Senior, Kathy and I did what any good sisters would do...we still don't like the girl who played Dolly Levi that year!  When she tried out for cheerleading, it was the same, we worked with her in the yard on all the moves, until she blew out her knee and the dream was lost (to us all).

Then when Kathy took an interest in performing, I too became interested.  At an early age I would "read" with her as she read from the play books, and she'd get so mad at me for not conveying the right emotion (I was 7 or 8 at the time).  When she tried out for plays in middle school, I was once again her "reading partner" as she ran her lines.  When she tried out for the part of Calamity Jane, once again, we knew all the songs and cheered her on.  In High School, when she won the part of Eliza Doolittle, I once again was her "reading partner" and she once again, got mad at me for not getting the accent down!  LoL  When she went to Italy as a member of a Madrigal Group, though admittedly jealous, we still cheered her on as she took the trip of a lifetime.  Funny how it's still the one place in the world I want to go (just like my sister)

Throughout the years, my sisters have each been (at one time or another) my best friend, my protector, my cheerleader, my nemesis and my idol.  There were many times I felt like the third man out, but realize that for each of them, they had moments they experienced this feeling too.  They have given me far more than I have ever given them, and I wonder if they know how truly grateful I am to have each of them as my sister?

Though we are all very different, my two older sisters are more similar in the paths they took and the life's they have led.  I am what one may call the proverbial "black sheep" of the family yet I now know, that despite my choices, I am just like my sisters. 

Our parents, our Mother in particular, raised us to "always come from a place of kindness" and in our own way, each of us do.  We are each gifted with a higher than average level of intelligence (at least our IQ tests told us so), all have the ability to see the best in others, and each has a desire to have a positive impact on this word.  We have all grown into a woman who is finally comfortable within her own skin (despite the occasional desire for plastic surgery), we  have all raised amazing children (each a unique and powerful individual in their own right) and we each have the capacity to do so much more with the rest of our life.   So in that regard, we are each "just like my Sister".

When God created us to be a family unit, it was done so with Intention.  As in all things, the Intention was that each would somehow learn from the other.  Whether it be what to do, or who to be in life, or simply what not to do or what not to be, then we each had a part in helping the other along the way on our individual journeys.  Being part of this family and the lessons that have lead me to this point in my Journey, I know my sisters played a key part in my understanding that each of us truly are on a separate Journey, even though we are all connected.  We are all here with Intention to learn a specific lesson in our souls Journey, so how we live life, is no more right, or no more wrong then how another lives it.  It is just different...and I have finally learned that being different is a necessity to living one's life EXTRAORDINARY!

 

Maybe....

Well, here I am...sitting in front of my computer screen wonder what the heck am I going to write that will make a difference in the life of many?  How am I going to do that if I can't even figure out where to start?  What made me think I had anything "profound" to say anyway?  Have you seen my life?  Why would anyone want to hear what I have to say?  Who the heck thought it would be a good idea to start a blog anyway?  Ok...that was me, but really, what was I thinking????

Hmmm...what was I thinking?  Interesting question...have you ever had a moment when you looked back on a choice you made, a direction you chose and wondered "What was I thinking?"  I know there have been times in my life that I have, but to be honest with you, those times are far and few between.  This is not to say that all my choices where good ones, as they weren't, it's just to say that I really wouldn't change much in my life as it has all led to me being the woman I am today.  I may not be perfect, my life may not be all I want it to be, and to some it may even resemble "a train wreck", but I am finally happy with the person I have become and excited about the woman I have yet to be. 

Now, just because I wouldn't change much, with the exception of the decision to go from black hair to blonde which resulted in my head resembling a Canary (all yellow and peach), it doesn't mean all my choices were the best ones.  On the contrary.  There were some real doozy's that caused others to say "What were you thinking???"  Actually, there were many choices that caused other's to say that, but the truth of the matter is, I did the best I could while trying to stay true to myself.  There's the kicker...staying true to one's self. 

I've made many choices in my life that have caused others, my family in particular, to believe that I chose to do so out of "spite".  I promise you, this was not the case.  Though they were always trying to give me advice that would "fix" my life, I didn't always listen.  I made choices that felt "safe" to me, that didn't put me out there to be open to rejection, that didn't set me up for failure, that in many cases where the opposite of what my family told me, simply because, at the time, they felt "right" to me.  I was trying to be true to myself (as we all should), yet, at the time, felt that being "me" made me "less than"  my sisters.  Thus I was living life in a constant state of turmoil...  

Maybe that was why I stayed within the life I knew and didn't take their advice to put myself out there in the manner they all suggested.  Maybe that's why I felt the need for others to help me, because somewhere along the way I "heard" what they were saying as "I wasn't good enough to do it on my own".  Maybe it was just simply fear that kept me from being who they wanted me to be, because the person they wanted me to be didn't feel like me.

Was it as simple as my belief that I was positive I would fail if I tried to live up to what my sisters did?  To what my sisters had?  After all, my perception (whether right or not) was I would never measure up to my sisters.  Or was it that maybe, somewhere deep inside, I knew that I was different than my sisters?  That maybe I wasn't meant to live the life they had?   Was this the case? If so, why did that fact make me feel somehow "less than" my sisters? 

Maybe it was the fact that the person my parents saw, the little girl who "saw" dead people, was so foreign to their understanding that they didn't know how to deal with her.  Maybe their attempt to squelch that part of me (simply in an effort to protect me from the criticism of others), taught me that I was somehow inherently "wrong" the way God made me.  Or maybe it was simply me, trying to find my own path in life, that made me the outsider.  Maybe it was my own perception that made me feel "less than" my sisters verses that I truly was.  Maybe I was just trying to be true to me but hating the me I was because I wasn't "like my sisters" ...

I struggled for many years with being the "failure" in the family.  I knew they loved me as only family can, but also knew that my choices and what they perceived as me choosing to "not listen to them" made them very angry with me. Partly because they saw me heading for danger, but mostly because I had turned into the person who always asked others for help when I was "down".  I had taken on the roll of "victim" in life and consequently my family paid the price (literally) for each mistake I made.  Sometimes I asked for help, other times they just automatically offered to help because how do you not when you see someone you love suffering?  It became a pattern that was hard to break.  They became my rescuers and because I allowed them to do so, I damaged the "friendships" we once had. 

The decisions to allow myself to be "rescued" throughout my lifetime by those I loved, are the only choices I truly regret.  Unfortunately I cannot change what damage has been done with my family.  All I can do is make the choice to do better, be better and take full responsibility for my choices from this moment forward.  I have chosen to live my Life within the Truth of who I am.  I am learning to follow my intuitive voice and walk the Path that is given. I have learned to accept the fact that it is perfectly fine if it is not the Path others think I should take.  I am finally ready to live fully with the consequences of my choices, good or bad, they are mine to own.

Maybe my life turned out to be less "successful" than my sisters in the eyes of others but, as for the person I am, it turns out I was NOT less than my sisters.   I finally understand that who I am, who I was born to be, is equally as important, equally as special, and equally as unique as they are.  It is this understanding that has finally freed me from feeling like a failure, and knowing that what I have to offer the world is important, what I have to say will make a difference, and who I am is God Given...just like my sisters.