siblings
Siblings are the only enemy you can't live without.
Our Secret Spot
June 2018 (21 years old at the time of writing) “Kel, that’s not how you do it!” I cautioned him “Who cares? I’m going faster than you!” my brother responds snarkily, laughing as he runs off in an awkward sort of tip-toe manner. And there we were, learning to skate for the first time. We don’t remember how we got there or who else was present. Still, I’ll never forget the happiness and security my brother and I shared that evening. Kelvin and I have always looked to each other for confidence, and it seemed we had found a safe place to talk about our lives and laugh about our struggles. The combination of disco lights, buzzing and blaring from the arcade games, and the rink DJ spinning the hottest tracks of 2008 was enough noise to drown out our voices. We had to experience this elation again. My brother began mowing lawns to earn a little cash, and I the same through domestic duties. Once we had been able to save consistently enough, we’d run off to the roller rink once, sometimes twice a month. From my mother’s divorce to her remarriage, and then the birth of our younger sister. Through our parents leaving to serve overseas, splitting us into different homes in the process. The rink was where we could escape together. Plans and dreams were thought up there because no one could tell us our hopes were foolish. The roller rink was our secret spot.
By Ashley Croban6 years ago in Families
Competing with my sister to become the ‘IDEAL’ child
Age-wise, I and my elder sister had a gap of 1.5 years, Grade-wise it was 1 year. We went to the same school and were taught by almost the same set of teachers. Apparently we shared the same section and so her class-teacher always became my class-teacher the next year! I call my sister a ‘born genius’. She had the best handwriting in her class, she won medals in almost all competitions she took part in, and she scored A+ in almost all subjects. Teachers would describe her as the ‘ideal’ student. My mother was known in the school by my sister’s name and I got ‘special attention’ from teachers when I introduced myself as ‘her sister’. Unfortunately, this ‘special attention’ felt like a ‘special burden’ to me. I was not ‘Bad’ or ‘Weak’. I scored average marks, my handwriting was legible, I moderately participated in co-curricular activities, and I was respectful and obedient! The unfortunate part was that for the teachers I was my sister’s ‘SISTER’. Hence my handwriting was “ok, but not as good as...”; my painting for the class bulletin board was “ok, but not as good as the one hung last year!” and so on for all the other things at school!! Once, in my third grade, I had made a thermocol Christmas tree. It was my best creation and I was so satisfied and happy. I took it to school, taking utmost care so as not to damage it on my way. I waited eagerly to show it to my class teacher. She looked at it for a while, looked up at the bulletin Board and commented “This one can go in there (pointing to the small board beside the main one), and I was thinking if you could get the one that your sister had created last year that could be placed here in the centre”. Was I to be happy or sad? After all, even if my sister’s work was put up, it was from ‘my side’. With that logic in fact, two and not just one painting from my side were to go onto the board!! I was neither sad nor happy, I felt frustrated. And by now, I don’t think I need to explain my frustration further! I always yearned for the praise and approval which my sister received. Once in my 10th grade, I wrote a wonderful essay in French (a third language for us). It had taken me 5 hours to write a one page essay, but when it was completed I felt proud. Excited as I always was, after any of my creation, I gave it to my sister to read it. She was not just amazed, she had difficulty understanding the vocabulary used and had to refer to the dictionary multiple times. My excitement grew and I eagerly waited for my work to be reviewed by my teacher. The comment that I received read “Is this your own work or your sister’s?” This was a red scar on my beautiful blue ink!! How did I feel- Sad, angry, frustrated? None! I felt ‘winning a battle’.
By pallavi gupta6 years ago in Families
People in my Life
This New Year's day of 2021 will mark the 30th anniversary of the violent murder of my brother, Joseph Vincent Hulse. Around 12:15 am, January 1st, 1991, a coward brought a gun to a fist fight. He also brought along a couple carloads of friends armed with golf clubs and baseball bats. My brother was only 20 when he died but he had an old soul and I always viewed him as an adult. He was only 6 years older than me but light years more mature.
By James S. Carr6 years ago in Families
A Thankful Sister
What am I most thankful for this holiday season? My brother! Many of you have been following the stories of the devastating fires across the United States. Two fires in particular hit very close to home for me. In my home state of Colorado, the Cameron Peak Fire and the East Troublesome fire raged simultaneously creating a very devastating threat to the tourist town of Estes Park, where my brother and his beautiful family live. While we watched the Cameron Peak fire closely, it was a much more deadly fire that was just on the horizon. The East Troublesome fire swooped in fast causing my family to have to evacuate quickly. Soon after, it was threatening their very neighborhood with emergency crews camped one block over!
By Lisa Brasher6 years ago in Families
Falling for Christmas
One memorable Christmas a few years back, I was away at college eagerly awaiting the weekend when Christmas break began. I had one organic chemistry final to power through, then I was on my way to two weeks of freedom. This time of year family from all over the country return home to celebrate the holiday season. I have an older brother who was out a couple days earlier from his college than mine and home already. My parents had already set up the Christmas tree, this is usually done on my Dad's birthday on the 12th of December (12/12) as an annual tradition in our family. Truly an appropriate day to perform this special task as my Dad loves Christmas, especially all the Christmas lights.
By Carolyn Sumner6 years ago in Families
Teacup
I, Allex, have a total of five siblings. My older sister, Bailey, is my half-sister. Despite this, I’ve known her my entire life and consider her a full sibling. This is not to say that any other sibling is not real, but Bailey has been in my life longer than any other sibling, including my one fully biological sibling. My strongest memories from my very early ages all include Bailey in some way. We were always near each other, even if she didn’t quite want me there all the time. I can never tell from memory if I actually had a considerably large house in these young years or if everything just seemed larger as a small child. We didn’t always get along the best; we’ve had our times of not talking, or not caring. I was never sure. At this point in our lives, we seem to have come to an understanding that we will live our own lives and never get as close as we used to be. I think we are both fine with this.
By Allex Gehrke6 years ago in Families
April Fools?
It was April 1, 2001. I was sitting in our living room on our old, floral print couch in front of the wood stove with my mom, dad, and little brother who was three at the time. I was sweating, partially because I was wearing a furry pink bath robe over my pajamas while the wood stove was turned all the way up, and partially because I was nervously reading aloud, “Green Eggs and Ham,” a book I had not yet memorized. If you are wondering why we were sitting in front of the wood stove with it turned all the way up in April, it is because we lived in North Idaho where nine months out of the year it snows. While I was reading, my mother was sitting on one side of me helping me sound out and pronunciate the words I had not yet memorized. My little brother was sitting on the other side of me looking at the pictures on the pages. My father was sitting on the other side of my little brother and was without a doubt probably thinking about his upcoming turkey hunting season instead of listening to, “Green Eggs and Ham” for the thousandth time.
By Katelyn Reeves6 years ago in Families
Winsley the Two-headed Monkey
Chapter 3: Winsley is Jealous It had been a week since they reunited Winsley with his mother. Mostly they were alone in the room. They would bring food and have their water bowls refilled. Humans had done this every few hours, often in the middle of the night. Winsley had become acquainted with his little sister, and their bond had grown each day. As the days progressed, visitors brought them toys and treats for the newborn to play. Winsley often got to play with the toys too, but they were for little monkeys. Not meant for his more mature stature. While he enjoyed playing with a ball that held a bell, it bored him. His little sister was walking around, with her tail held high. She stumbled a few times, but their mother Marigold lifted her up by the tail to help her gain balance. She was a very curious and shy monkey. When Winsley played catch with the ball, she didn’t take part. She hid behind their mother and watched, as fast moving objects scared her. Winsley tried rolling the ball to her, but she didn’t even try to catch or give chase. She just watched the ball roll across the floor, peeking out from behind their mom. Winsley missed exploring the park with his friend. Getting extra treats like ice cream, and his other favorite flavored snacks. The attention he got riding on the boy with the red hat’s shoulders. He passed time by chattering and making faces at his new sister, who still couldn’t understand what he said to her. Winsley noticed a change in his mom, as her eyes always followed his sister. He threw the ball and tried to catch it from higher and higher distances. He desperately wanted to show his mother the new trick he had learned. Marigold just kept looking the other way. Making sure his sister would not get into any trouble. These small details made Winsley less sure of himself. He didn’t see how such a boring monkey as his sister was more interesting than the tricks he did with a ball. To him, he felt as if his mother was ignoring his plea for attention. This opened a new feeling that Winsley didn’t understand. It wasn’t anger or sadness, and it sure wasn’t happiness. Winsley dismissed these feelings and emotions he had, blaming it on being bored. Winsley played with the ball, sliding it from one hand to the other. He adjusted the speed as the ball jingled and rolled to each hand, making it go faster or slower. Sometimes the ball spun so fast, and he missed catching it. So he chased after the ball, before resuming his game. He hadn’t noticed his little sister sneaking up behind him as he batted the ball back and forth. She leaped out from behind and caught the ball. She ran as quick as she could with the ball towards her mother, who just watched. Winsley gave chase, but every time he chased and wound go around their mom in one direction, she went the other. No matter what he did, she kept running away from him with the ball. It didn’t take long before he got bored with this game. He looked up at his mother and chattered. Pointing at the ball his sister had taken from him. But his mother had done nothing to retrieve it. She let the newborn play with the ball by herself. This made Winsley very upset. He had the ball first and couldn’t understand why his mother didn’t give him back the ball. She just smiled at the newborn and then offered Winsley a banana. He didn’t want the banana; he wanted the ball. His mother never once made him this upset. He didn’t know what to do. Winsley went to sit in the corner as if he had done something wrong. He noticed a stick laying on the floor next to him, so he picked it up and traced the lines in the floor. It took practice for him to trace the grout, as the stick would slip onto the tile. Winsley was getting the hang of tracing the tiles with the stick and wondered how many tiles he could trace without repeating a line. So he made this into a game. The first attempt was in the small area where he was sitting. But he could draw those with the stick without intersecting or crossing the lines. So he made it bigger. He hopped to the side, still dragging the stick across the floor. Then he changed directions, hopping to the other. The game he had created was fun, but once again he was preoccupied and did not realize that his little sister had other plans. His sister was dodging out of his way while being behind him. Copying his movements. This was fun for a while. But now she wanted to play with the stick. Just as Winsley stopped to admire his work. She jumped and took it from him, before retreating behind their mother. Winsley looked back at their mother in shock. His mouth gaped open. As his sister peeks her head out from behind Marigold, sticks her tongue out. Winsley approaches his mother, pointing at his sister who now has both toys, the ball and the stick. He chattered at his mother, but she looks away towards the baby. Taking the newborn’s tail in hand, she pulls his sister out from behind her. His baby sister lets out a startling screech, being lifted by the tail. Both toys dangle from her hands as she’s moved in front of her mom. Still holding both toys, she tried to cuddle against her mother. But her mother slid her away, she looked at the child eyeing her. She rolls her lips, then chatters tilting her head to the side. Winsley watches, feeling proud that his mother is doing something about the situation. But his sister rolls the ball to him. Winsley blinked and looked at the ball, then rolled it back at his sister. He no longer wanted the ball, he wanted the stick. He was having much more fun with the stick and the tiles. Then he was playing with the ball. But she rolled it right back to him. He rolled it back to her once again. This time she let the ball roll right under her and bounce off the wall, clasping the stick in her grip. Marigold nodded at Winsley, reaching for the ball. She hands the ball to him, then makes a gesture with her hand for play. Winsley couldn’t understand why his mother was giving him the ball. They had not taught him at the learning lab like his mother. So the gesture was strange, but he assumed that he had no other choice but to play with the ball. This upset Winsley. Every time he played with a toy, his sister took it from him. So once again, he dropped the ball, ignoring its enticing sound, and sulked away. His emotions building up on the inside, he looked back at his sister and his mother. Why was she allowed to choose the toy she wanted, even if he had been playing with it first? This was a question that confused him. He noticed his little sister scurry for the ball he had left behind, as she started hitting the ball with the stick. Making it move around behind Marigold. His sister had both toys, and he had nothing. Winsley felt the emotions again, this time more prominent. He realized that this was both a feeling of anger and sorrow, rejection and neglect. Was this jealousy? Winsley had never experienced this before, while being separated from the others in the exhibit. He was not sure what to do. So he stayed in the corner, facing his mother and his sister as they played. Not realizing that she was moving better, her coordination was getting stronger playing with the toys. **************************************************************** Another week had passed, and it was time for the trio to return to the exhibit. A man had entered the room, Winsley had recognized him. It was the man that had brought him and the little boy to the room to be with his mother. Winsley got excited. The man used a mini forklift to carry in an interesting box. It looked like the net, but it was solid and firm. Stayed in place and was square. It had a door on it, and they covered the ground in hay. Inside the hollow contraption was a bowl filled with food and treats. They strung bananas between the bars. With popcorn strings dangling from one side to the other. The forklift lowered the cage to the ground, and he opened the door. Winsley’s eyes got bigger as he approached to inspect the cage. “Winsley, Marigold, Ella, it is time for you to go back to your exhibit.” Nathan spoke and gestured to Marigold the word crate and enter. Lazily Marigold stood up from her sitting position, standing several feet tall she moved closer to the cage, and with little fuss climbed in. Winsley and Ella both watched their mother, confused. Marigold tapped her lap, gesturing for the children to come to her. They did not delay seeing the delicious treats from inside it. As their mother picked a strand of popcorn off the crate and ate it. Both Winsley and Ella entered the crate as Nathan closed it behind them, giving them a few minutes to chew on the treats before moving. “Well now, that was easy,” Nathan spoke to himself. “Do not know why we didn’t do that the first time.” He let out a sigh, shaking his head. Then double-checked the straps that held the crate securely in place. After it satisfied him they were secure he got onto the miniature forklift. He slowly raised the crate up with the lift and backed it out of the door. It wasn’t very large of a crate, but it was large enough for Marigold and her children to be comfortable for the brief transportation back to the exhibit. Once it started moving both of the children ignored the rest of the treats and started jumping from side to side latching onto the edge of the crate looking out in excitement from all directions. Marigold reached for her children who wouldn’t sit still, grabbing them by their tails and pulled them both into her lap. She had done this several times in the past and knew that they might get hurt if they jumped around too much. It didn’t take long for them to reach the entrance to the exhibit. There, Gretta and Ben were waiting for them. Nathan nodded to Gretta and Ben, as Gretta kept an eye in the exhibit for the monkeys getting too close to the doors, and Ben held the door open. Nathan drove the lift into the exhibit slowly, being sure to stop any monkeys that might have last-minute dash ideas to go under his wheels. The doors closing quickly behind him. Nathan lowered the cage to the ground. While Ben and Gretta kept the curious monkey’s at bay. Nathan got off of the lift and opened the cage. “All right, you guys, time to rejoin your friends,” Nathan said. Gretta couldn’t help but notice the little female monkey. “Aww…” she cried in awe with a smile on her face. “Did they give her a name?” Gretta asked curiously. “Yep, her name is Ella.” Nathan spoke. “Ella, eh? I suppose it is a popular name because of that movie for kids, huh?” Ben asked. “Well, that and apparently she seems to have a troublemaker personality.” Nathan said with a shrug not really seeing it. “I think it’s a beautiful name for a little girl.” she smiled at the trio who were still eating some treats left in the crate. “Hopefully not as troublesome as their father. We can’t even keep him in the same pen, and the only monkey he gets along with is their mother. Not even the kids.” Ben added. “Suppose we should just come back and get the crate later tonight once they get readjusted to their environment.” “Yeah probably,” Nathan was unlatching the large crate from the lift. “Can’t leave this in here though. Last time one of the dang monkey’s started it and broke the panels.” he chuckled at the thought of a monkey driving. “Wait, what? Really?” Gretta asked in disbelief. “Yep, nearly lost my job on that one.” Nathan added, “Lucky for me it wasn’t in our policy yet.” “Ah yeah I remember that, they posted pictures of it all over the break room with that photo of a monkey having his foot on the key, and dangling from the roof.” Ben said. “I think that might actually be their dad. Wonder if we can still find a copy.” Nathan got back on the lift as Ben heads towards the door. “I reckon they will let them roam again soon, now they are all back together.” Ben commented to Gretta as he opened the door. Gretta kept an eye out for any approaching monkeys standing at Nathan’s side “Clear '' she yelled motioning his movements. Nathan backed the lift out into the hallway, the doors held open by Ben and Gretta on watch. Gretta followed the lift out the door backwards, still keeping her eye on the exhibit until the door closed behind them. *************************************************************** Marigold, Winsley and Ella had eaten their fair share of the treats from inside the crate. They can hear the sounds of the rustling within the trees. The leaves and the branches shaking, Marigold was the first one out of the crate. She rushed off to reclaim her corner which another monkey had been nestling. It didn’t take much to scare off the other monkey, Marigold just let out a loud roar, and beat on her chest twice. Before the little monkey scurried away, not willing to challenge Marigold for the spot. The others were in that vicinity, also scattered about to a different corner of the exhibit. Winsley and Ella watched their mother, curious about her behavior. Understanding that she was reclaiming what was already theirs. Winsley decided it was his turn and took off at full speed towards his mother. Ella was slow behind Winsley, as another monkey had approached her. Ella continued to drift slowly, pass the monkey between her and her family. But the monkey had a different idea. He offered her a banana. Winsley and Marigold both watched the exchange curiously. As Ella sat and reached for the banana, peeled it and ate it. Her tail flicked from side to side playfully, as she finished eating and tossed the peel aside. She then pounced onto the other monkey and playfully bit his ear. He was startled and let out a little screech of his own. But this drew the attention of others in the exhibit who wanted to play. It didn’t take long before there were a handful of monkey’s playing with Ella. As they ran, she chased. When she ran, they chased. She was quick to make new friends with the others. This made Winsley sad and jealous. Every time he wanted to play they would run away, but this time he approached his sister. The other monkey quickly ran away from his sister in a hustle to hide. As his sister stood there, confused why the others fled. She watched her brother come closer to her. Winsley pushed on Ella’s shoulder, trying to play with her. But in her confusion she looked away, watching all the others go into hiding. She turned back to her brother, her ears lowered. She meant to take a step back, but to Winsley her posture looked scared. Winsley immediately had his feelings hurt, that his own sister was afraid of him. Did she realize he was different? That this was a bad thing? Rejected he turned to walk away, his tail low and a sad expression on his face. Ella seeing this lunged with all of her strength into her older brother, knocking him down. She gently bit his ear, as her tail flicked side to side playfully brushing across his nose. Confused and tickled, Winsley stood up and let out a sneeze. Which sent the fur on his back standing up. Ella grabbed his tail and gave it a gentle tug before running a few feet away from him. Winsley looked confused at her. So she grabbed his tail again, taking a few steps away from her brother. Winsley decided that he should tug on her tail too, so he chased after his little sister. Being older and faster, he could catch up to her rather quickly. Ella let out a little squeal as he grabbed her tail. This attracted the attention of the other monkeys who watched. They both took turns chasing and grabbing each other’s tail. Until another little monkey from the exhibit thought it looked fun. He approached and gave Winsley a tug on his tail, but as he did, he froze in place. The other monkeys in the exhibit that were watching all had their eyes wide, curious to see what would happen next. Winsley turned to the third monkey and gave a gentle tug in return on him. Ella pounced on the monkey, knocking him over, once again taking a gentle bite out of another’s ear. Soon the other monkeys had left their hiding places and joined in on the fun. Each taking turns and gently startling each other by pulling on each other’s tails. Marigold was very proud of Ella and Winsley, that they both had made new friends. For once, the community accepted Winsley for who he was, and not what he looked like. Moral - If you can learn from your jealousy of others. While taking responsibility, it may open up doors that you didn’t have before.
By Dana Bassinger6 years ago in Families
