It's a Sibling Thing

I’ve been sucked in by my current read, Kate Morton’s The Distant Hours. I am fascinated by the familial relationships she tackles. The protagonist spends most of the book uncovering the intricacies of a particular family: A father, twin daughters and their younger sister—focusing mostly on the sisters. She describes their relationship like this: “The intricate tangle of love and duty and resentment that tied them together.”

Of course, this dragged my thoughts toward my own siblings. Love, yes, plenty. Duty, yes. Don’t mess with my family. Resentment gave me pause. I don’t actually resent my siblings—I tend more toward the love and duty, I think. But it does bring a few of our off-handed comments to mind. “She got to travel all the time with Mom and Dad. He never got caught—ever! She got caught every time she tried anything (giggle-giggle).” Which leads to other commentary . . . “The baby of the family has it made! The middle kid always gets the shaft. The oldest thinks she’s all that. Spare me!”

I’m writing about two girlfriends right now. Their bond is tight. But the sibling bond is somehow more fraught with the possibility for raw emotion. Losing a friend or hurting a friend is painful. But usually there is so much more invested in that sibling relationship. The hurt cuts deeper, misunderstanding can last longer and grate harder. 

Morton writes the experience of an outsider observing the sisters. “The glances they exchanged; the complicated balance of power established over decades; the games I would never play with rules I would never fully understand."

There’s something about a brother-sister/sister-sister/brother-brother connection that cuts straight to our core. I once heard someone say that siblings are like the only fellow countrymen in existence from their home planet. Truly, every household could be construed to be a separate planet.

Remember all your observations from that first sleepover in jr high? (They never eat ice cream! The mom plays the radio all day and all night! Their dad works on an old car in the garage 'til midnight every night!) Only those citizens who have lived it can empathize and fully understand. And only those citizens provide true comfort when homesickness sets in. Because at some point, we just can’t go home again and being with people who remember that home (good or bad) fills in the gaps better than anything else can.

Read The Distant Hours. For the siblings. For the castle. For the complete escape from your own castle. It made me think of my home and the wonderful gifts I have in my siblings.