Sibling Rivalry

My goofy sister was over yesterday and I was reminded... again... of just how long a memory sibling rivalry has.

My parents had children in two sets; my sister Marietta and brother Jim were born and had established what they thought were comfortable lives eight and seven years before I came along. My little sister Karen followed me by two and a half years.

Apparently and persistently, it seems, I was the fly in the ointment.

We were raised in two different families simultaneously if either or both of our childhood memories are correct. I remember a father who mentored me to be smart, independent, clear-thinking and logical; hers was a harsh task-master who would brook no sass and gave no quarter. HER mother was loving and caring, kept a fine house, laughed a lot and enjoyed life; mine was an alcoholic.

Eight years of changes over time allow both these perceptions to be valid.

Still, my sister - with humor but truly - blames me for being born AFTER my father evolved.

There was never any question who ruled the Davidge roost: Dad. He said, "Jump," and we'd all say, "How high?" The difference is that my brother and sister followed directions to the letter so they could avoid punishment; Karen and I did it just to please.

Physical punishment was the norm in the late forties and early fifties. Sonny saw the belt regularly and Toot too took a few whacks over time; Dad never touched either Ki or me.

Somehow, this is my fault.

It's also my fault that I was a sickly child and was catered to whenever I'd get the vapors, that I got privileges earlier than she had, that Dad allowed me more latitude in negotiating with him than she had known, and that it was assumed I would go to college but she would go to secretarial school.

Toot was born with beautiful platinum hair and eyes of such an unusual and changing color they could mesmerize; I, however, was called "Judy the Beauty".

It won't surprise anyone to know we didn't really become friends till we were both adults!? But best friends we are and have been, now, for forty years. Still, these old jealousies come out at the oddest moments. They're always there, lurking. We are way way way beyond our childhood and still they intrude.

The playing field has absolutely been leveled. We're both old, both overweight, both jowly, both too often under the weather, and we each have lost more than one step intellectually.

It's not my fault I'm still eight years younger, is it?