Until I met John, I never really longed for the success of being a wife. Never saw myself as anyone that someone would fall in love with, let alone want to marry. My great hope longing yearning was not for marriage, but to be a good daughter sister aunt. Not mother - never saw myself having children. Didn't mope for a circle of friends to whom I could confide & have jolly fun. But to be a good daughter sister aunt - from my earliest memories, that was my everything.
Was reminded of it just now, looking at a niece's new Facebook profile shot. Can see the picture, but not post a comment - she unfriended me years ago. Her brother has never friended me. And with good cause. I was a very poor aunt to both of them. I wasn't as protective & understanding as I should have been because I'd never experienced the sort of protectiveness & compassion the two of them deserved. While I take comfort that she was my maid of honor & he was one of John's ushers, am filled with sadness that when Mom left us, so did they.
Scott has been blessedly outspoken about how uncomfortable I can make him feel. Good lad, speaking your truth! Karen & I have a lovely light-touch relationship spun out of Facebook postings & now gifties down to Riley. But if she was visiting for any amount of time, am quite certain I'd rub her the wrong way, too.
For most of my life, I was aware of being persona non grata with my sibs. They were utterly upfront about their feelings toward me, for which I have always been grateful. It was only in my fifties that I realized the correct term would be persona non exista. So many things have brought home to me how I simply don't exist to them, as someone they might like let alone as a sister. People rail against that - "Oh, no! You're all wrong!" - because it seems improbable. But, to quote Aristotle via Peter Wimsey, it is better to believe the improbable possible than the impossible probable.
Seeing that photo of Whitney & not being able to post a comment was a dagger to my heart. Didn't realize how much I still care, how much I miss experiencing Campbell & Piper & Finlay (Finley?) growing up. I get my updates via Mim.
My saving grace is that part of me knew since what feels like forever that it would be so. Years before she died, Mom told me that my sibs would get along better with me when she was gone. I disagreed, noting that when she was gone, so was any reason for any connection. Part of me knew what was going to happen. From my single digits, have had a freakish sense of what was really afoot. Hasn't saved me from the sadness, but from a lot of confusion.
When it comes to Whitney & Reynolds, I have a tremendous amount of remorse. Looking back, can see so many places where I could have been such a better aunt. Am pleased for the chance to know Scott as well as I have, although it hasn't seemed to have done a heap of good in creating any sort of actual bond - as far as I know, he still shares his mother's view that I am a deeply angry person who flies off the handle & manically lashes out at people. Feeling totally blessed to have a Facebook friendship with Karen.
The bottom line is that my way of living is VERY different from my siblings. I utterly completely totally rub them the wrong way. Guess it was inevitable our sorry relationship would be passed down to the next generation.
Praise be, I treasure each of them - always have, always will. Okay, not Kerry, because she made Mom sad. I have my regrets over what isn't, will always feel an occasional pang of remorse when I see a great profile pic & can't post a "WOW!" comment. But I did my best, with what inner resources I had at the time. I was a failure as an aunt to Whitney & Reynolds, but I was a failure to myself back then, too. My best, as lacking as it might have been, was my best.
From the day I was born, my longing to be the best daughter sister aunt was doomed. Too many differences in life expectations, communication patterns, definitions of roles. I took my best shot. Do I have the faintest idea why things were & are the way they are? Not a clue. Nor does it matter. A life tied to regret will sink, every time.
Old Blue Eyes says it best...
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