Ah, and now to deal with you. I have been visited upon by my mare, Duetz the past few nights in vivid dreams just before waking. I know you can’t be far behind. All this digging into ancestry.com has brought ghosts to light on many fronts. I welcome your visit, I need your wise, brotherly advice at this point in life.
How do I deal with the fact that half of my life, I spent with you, and now almost as long has passed since you left? What one word would I say to you, if given just that chance?
So much life has gone on for me since yours stopped. I have looked at your picture and wondered how you would react to me today. As your younger sibling I always sought your approval, I’m sure that hasn’t changed.
You’ve shown up fleetingly in dreams. I can smell you, as only a sister would. You haven’t aged, you are still thirty-three. You are still moving at the speed of light and I struggle to catch up.
When we were first allowed to walk to school alone, cross the streets and make our way up the hill on stubby legs, you always walked too fast. If I complained, I was rewarded with a forced march the next day as further threat to not tattle. In my dreams, you are hurrying off again, I’m trying to keep pace and tell you all you’ve missed. You always smile and say, “I have seen it all.” as you leave. I’m not sad when I awake. Rather, I feel strangely calm.
I’m building a body of work now. I’m trying to save every memory and every important milestone for Lex and Han. I want us to be part of the” never-ending story.” I struggle with the same stupidly human foibles that I have struggled with for years. I rate my progress against what I think you would expect from me by now.
Every time you appear, you dismiss my simple awe and shine a warm glow of acceptance. I feel loved and the judgement I expect never happens. Yet the search for that acceptance, from the first human who was closest to me in experience, never fades. You knew all the answers. You were first. You forged the path.
And so, now to you, little sister. You and I are left adrift in this life. You may think I have answers, you may think you have some of your own, The truth is, we are left to write this story alone with our own tools forged of birth order, memories and learned responses. We are the keepers of the light. I don’t know what it means to be the third child. I can’t imagine having two siblings ahead of me to chart my life by. I know only the middle child. I wasn’t the oldest or the youngest. I was always too young or too old to fit either category.
Whatever we are, we are all that is left of that time, and that means we get to write history as we see fit.