The Way We Were

I rarely talk about my siblings. Sure, I'll mention them after a visit or I'll tell a story or two that involve them on occasion. But, I don't talk about them as individuals.

As sad as this sounds, I don't know them as well as I probably should. As we have our own lives, our own activities, and our own problems, it's sometimes difficult as we transition and delve into adulthood.

And obviously, I tend to view them through the prism of adolescence and the teen years when I knew them the best. I know them better as they were, not as they are now.

I've been thinking quite a bit today about how we learn, and how we approach life in general. While we grew up in the same house and under the same general philosophy of child-raising from our parents, we all had (and have) different personalities. We saw events differently, and that affected how we reacted and learned from events.

So, using our childhood as an example, I submit the following:

(As a side-note, one of the good things about this blog is having some sort of 5th Amendment protection. That is, any stories I tell can't be used against me.)

During the teenage years, Chris was the rebellious one. He was the firstborn and the most willing to push the boundaries of obedience. I used to tell myself it's because he was the only one of the three children actually born in Texas, but I think there's more than that.

If you told Chris white, he'd say black. If my parents told Chris he did something he shouldn't have, he'd say, Too bad you feel that way. When Chris was out late with his friends past the time my parents told him to be home, our dad would stay up and wait for him. Even when he had to be up early the next morning.

I can think of several times where he and my dad pushed the limits of their tempers toward each other, neither wanting to back down. I sat on the couch in bewilderment not believing my eyes. I can also remember moments when Chris was sent to his room, he walked away muttering too loudly (and too clearly) and got in even more trouble. More punishment wasn't a top concern of his at the time.

On the other end of the spectrum, Meridith was always very sensitive. You had to be careful of how much you teased her (or locked her in the bathroom). Jesting quickly turned to tears for her and punishment for you.

I would be surprised if she ever talked back to our parents. Ever. I also know that when our parents attempted to scold her, their disappointment was more than any actual punishment meted out.

Now, to me. I think I was always somewhere in the middle. Sure, I rebelled, but in tedious ways. As a child, I'd sneak a book and a flashlight under the covers and read until I fell asleep. When Chris and I got caught shoplifting candy with some friends, I went straight home when Chris didn't want to. I came home at unreasonable times, but usually because I was playing or watching basketball.

I remember few times where I raised my voice toward my dad (usually after my team lost a game) and only once where I used a mildly profane word in anger.

But when my parents told me to do something, I usually wanted to know the reasoning behind it. Not that the reasoning compelled me to obey or disobey. But, I had less difficulty obeying if I knew why.

Three children. Three personalities and different approaches, each sufficient for their own purposes and results.

Thank you Mom and Dad, Bro, Sis. I love you.