I am 46. Ancient to my kids, and just a kid to my parents. I have come to a lot of realizations recently in regards to all points of my life. But, I am only going to refer to one today.
I am happy where I am with the relationship with my sister, Karen. We have had a bumpy road the last couple of decades, with me being truly baffled as to why. Growing up I was the leader. Being two years older convinced me I was years ahead in experience and knowledge. She was my minion. We rarely fought, only because she did exactly what I told her to do. Power.
When we grew up, we were comommies. I had three in three years and she had four in three and a half. We took our brood everywhere together. My dark kids, her blond ones. Along about the time her fifth came along, things went south. Her ex was hurting the kids, and I couldn't stand by and watch. I called CPS once, and whoever I talked to did not keep the anonymous part anonymous and told her I had called. She was livid, and wouldn't talk to me for years. I missed out on a lot of the younger kids growing up years. Soon after, she kicked her ex to the curb for having a kid with the babysitter, and went on to get a good job, buy a house, and meet a wonderful man who helped raise her kids. I really feel it is this man who convinced her I was not the monster her ex had led her to believe, and we slowly started to heal.
I love my sister's kids...almost as much as I love my own. They are an extension of me. I tell my youngest niece, Emily, that she is my favorite niece all the time. I also tell her not to tell Vanessa. Meanwhile I tell Vanessa SHE is my favorite and not to tell Emily. LOL
My sister and I text all the time. She was my rock during Grandma's illness, and passing, and funeral. Yesterday at the memorial party, I realized how far we had come, and I was happy.
My relationship with Monica is best left for another day.