Momalom’s post yesterday on sisterhood got me thinking. It got me thinking about scars.
I have a scar on my abdomen. It came from an appendectomy when I was 6 months pregnant with the Queen. This scar now has stretch marks around it (thank you, pregnancy). I shudder and grin when I see that scar. It represents a hellish pregnancy. It also reminds me of my beautiful Queen.
I hope that this scar will eventually fade. I have other scars that, although they aren’t facial, are more painful. These are my relationship scars.
One in particular has been on my mind a lot lately. My sister and I have struggled through the years. When she was a rebellious teenager, I hated the pain she inflicted on my parents and she hated my “know-it-all” attitude. Our tenuous relationship hasn’t changed much over the years. Neither of us gives, but both of us take.
I could give you descriptions of our painful encounters, but it would be loaded with “he said, she said” crap. I could name a million offenses against me, and she could probably name a million and one. I will spare you.
I thought our relationship was nearly ended a few months ago. I had had too much.
Then the unexpected happened.
I mentioned how my sister saved the day when I went into labor. Her visit was perfectly (unperfectly?) timed.
My capricious sister lives in Alaska. She decided to make a surprise trip to my home state in the beginning of November. Before that date arrived, she jokingly remarked that maybe she would get to see the baby before she left. I didn’t think it was that funny.
Lo and behold, I went into labor the day she came to visit us. Instead of eating lunch together, she took the Queen. All day long. Then, the next day and night. She even witnessed Manly’s arrival into the world.
The unintended invitation to be present at the birth seemed like a way to patch up our threadbare relationship. It was a very special invitation, one that I do not extend frivolously. Heck, I wouldn’t even let my mom come! (I know, I am cruel). Nevertheless, it seemed the right thing to do. I do not regret it. I am so grateful that I did.
I think that moment has done more to improve our relationship than anything ever has or could.
As I watch my two babies I wonder how their relationship will unfold. I hope I can impart wisdom of what not to do. I also hope they will support each other no matter what.
While I cannot make them love each other, I can share the experiences I have had and hope they learn.