HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BIG SIS

Big Sis and friend, a million years ago...

Today is my big sister’s birthday. I do occasionally remember such things even though birthdays to me have generally become something to which I don’t pay a lot of attention. It used to be quite difficult when I worked in a building with people as I think some people like to make a big deal of such things and don’t understand that there are people in the world that simply don’t want to. Still, I think Big Sis and me have come to understand this over the years, so I’m pretty sure it’s not an issue that we don’t usually recognise such things or pay them too much heed. Like a lot of things, we know that they’re there, but we choose not to remark upon them.

Family can be an odd thing. Generally I don’t think that we’re a fairly typical bunch, but I imagine most people think that about their own family. We certainly don’t resemble the strangely idealised folk that you see in the adverts (although my Mum seems to think otherwise sometimes) and when people tell me tales of their family constantly being in each other’s homes or just “dropping round” to see one another, or (even worse) being “dropped in” on, or spending “special occasions” in rooms full of people that they’re related to, it is all I can do to conceal my abject horror at the prospect. My family can sometimes find it difficult to be in the same county, so that level of intimacy is just something that is beyond me.

There aren’t many of us left and we’re fairly scattered about and I’ve often believed that we get on better because of this. Mum lives about a dozen miles away from me in her little flat, and Big Sis has her own little family in her corner of the country, all living their lives and generally surviving up against the big bad world, and I share my life with my beloved in our own little corner here. Big Sis moved away to the other end of the country around about twenty years ago now so we don’t see that much of each other any more. I tend to take a little comfort from knowing that they’re out there somewhere, I suppose, it’s just that we don’t feel any need to be constantly in each other’s pockets. I know that there have been issues over the years because I don’t make enough effort to keep in touch, but then I do that with everybody. I’m not saying it’s right, of course, it’s just the way I am, but it isn’t personal. I treat everyone equally appallingly.

It wasn’t always been like this. I really don’t remember much that happened to me before the age of twelve. I think I’ve buried most of it, but, when I was a small person I suppose we were the typical (post-)nuclear family. Father, mother, two kids and a dog (a dachshund called “Sheba”), all living in a medium-sized semi-detached house in the commuter belt of a large northern town. Dad would head off to work in the mornings and Mum would care for a number of the neighbourhood children during the day. I tend to think that having that number of other kids around is what made me grow up valuing my privacy more, but I digress. At weekends the quite terrifying surviving pair of Grandparents would come and visit, or come and collect us to go to them, and we would never be as united as a family as when we had them to battle against.

Big Sis was a good few years older than me. It wasn’t planned like that it’s just how it was. I still have the little yellow leather cat she made for me when I was born (I found it during the house turnover I mentioned last week, although I probably couldn’t put my hand in it right now if asked) and have never been massively overchuffed that my parents allowed her to choose my name. We were nearly nine years apart in age, which meant that when I was toddling about and being a generally annoying little brother, my sister was being terribly grown-up and teenagerish.

In many ways we grew up as a pair of “only children” if that’s not too ridiculous a concept. I can honestly say that seeing my parents’ reactions to my sister’s various teenage woes probably shaped in a huge way the slightly strange way I turned out myself, but that’s nobody else’s fault. You see how the world is shaping up for other people and consequently, you choose to shape your own world to fit your own needs. For example, I think that the best Christmas gift I can give to my Big Sis is that she doesn’t have to worry about what my Mum’s going to do for Christmas so she can stay put and enjoy the Christmas she wants. Other people might not think that that’s important, but that’s the way our family functions.

I’ve said in the past that I do think that “friends” and “family” are two worlds that should never collide, certainly not in InterWeb world, but today I’m going to break that rule and, despite everything in what’s left of my soul screaming at me not to, I will send her a link to this page and hope that all this introspection doesn’t alarm her too much.

After all what difference should it make? The entire world could theoretically happen to come across these strange witterings, so what difference should it make if someone I’m  actually related to happens to pop in from time to time? Perhaps one day they might have happened upon it accidentally anyway. If she does choose to explore this little world of mine, I’m sure it will only confirm to her what she already was thinking anyway about her mad little brother.

I hope that it doesn’t change things here, knowing that some of the family may be watching. Sometimes knowing who’s out there reading this stuff changes the way you choose to phrase things. I like to think I witter on in much the same way no matter what, but perhaps I do “self-edit” depending on who I think it is out there watching. So, I hope it won’t change things here in Lesser Blogfordshire, but I guess we’ll just have to see…

Meanwhile, I really should say “Happy Birthday, Big Sis!”

Many happy returns.