Sisters

Sometimes I have memories of playing happily with my two younger sisters. Most of our play consisted of games we made up. We never had many toys but we did have our imaginations. The two homes we lived in as children had large yards which extended into wooded areas owned by us or by some unknown stranger. We liked to explore these woods and never worried about ownership.

On those few days when we stayed inside, we played with favorite toys received over the years. Mine were a ballerina doll with a pink tutu and slippers, a baby doll that smelled wonderful, paper dolls of characters from one of Gordon MacRae's musicals, and the Sears and Roebucks catalog from which we cut out our own paper dolls. My sisters and I usually received identical gifts at Christmas so we each had a baby doll, but only I had the ballerina doll and the Gordon MacRae paper dolls. I'm sure my sisters also had favorite toys they played with but I don't remember. I was happy with my toys.

As we got older our interests changed. I spent about half of my time by myself reading; my youngest sister started playing more with our younger brother; and my younger sister seemed to spend a lot of time daydreaming. When she wasn't daydreaming, she used to draw and write poetry. We still spent time together playing but our school activities made us realize that we were different.

I was always the first family member in each class because of my age, and usually when my sister came along, the teachers would call her by my name, and talk about when I was in their classes. I know they would compare her to me and expect her to be just like me. I can't imagine how she felt because, although I had an older sister, she was seven years older and we never even attended the same schools. I can imagine, though, how I would have felt if I had always been compared to an older sister who was there first.

Although close for awhile when we finished school, my younger sister and I have drifted apart again. We live in different states and don't see each other much. We've tried to keep in touch but I prefer email and my sister prefers telephones and regular mail. We lead very different lives, and have no friends in common. Even though she told me once that she'd gotten over her hatred of my big-sister attitude, I fear that the resentment is still there. We've been communicating recently by email about a serious issue concerning another family member, and every time I disagree with one of her suggestions, she reacts badly. It's gotten to the point where I feel I need to step away from the discussion, and give her time to see me once again as just a sister and not the bossy, big sister she often hated.