Family

So, I'm the youngest of 5 children.  My siblings are 10, 8, 6, and 4 years older than me.  I am not the doted upon younger sister, oh no.  I am the "why did you have to be born and ruin all our lives" sister.  I'm the one who ruined all their happy, joyful, lives.  If not for me, my sister would have been able to listen to her Beatles records all the time, and she wouldn't have been stuck babysitting all the time when she wanted to have fun.  My brother said I was too ugly to be in his wedding (1977).

I can't seem to remember a time in my life when I didn't feel like an unwanted appendage.  My parents were pretty tired by the time I hit my teens.  I'm sure I wasn't the easiest child to manage - I believe I had ADHD (undiagnosed, of course, who even thought of THAT in the 60's?).  On the other hand, I had my parents pretty much to myself all throughout high school.  Sure, just when you want your parents around.  I was a fat, unhappy, child and teen, with a gap in my teeth, and ugly, unmanageable hair. 

I don't remember my parents being supportive during high school, when I "managed" the men's soccer team.  They didn't want to go to the awards dinner in my senior year, so I didn't get to go.  I didn't know it until after, but I had been given a special award by the coaches for my assistance - but, I wasn't there to receive it.  When I presented my Senior Thesis in college, and we could invite guests, my parents declined to come.  It was a little awkward to be the only student presenting who didn't have family in the room.  No party for graduation, so you can imagine how it stung a little when, nearly 30 years later, my mother threw my sister a party for obtaining yet another degree. 

I won't make this a lengthy diatribe about my childhood - it was what it was, and I can't change it.  Throughout the year, until just recently, though, I was convinced that if anything really serious happened to any of us, the others would forget past differences, and pull together.  I really, naively, thought this.

Not any more.

Recently, my brother was diagnosed with prostate cancer, and had surgery on 9/15.  I assume all went well, since no one has called to say differently.  Yes, not even my mother.  My mother, who can't seem to remember that I, too, will have what I consider to be a very serious surgery.  I've told her 3 times, but every time I mention it, she asks, now what's this for?  And, when I remind her, she says, you've never told me this before.

I heard from my sister, via facebook, after I had a conversation with my mother, during which I asked if she'd come up and help care for me after my surgery.  I received this email, which said something about wanting my phone number, as mom had told her some convoluted story about my surgery.  I responded with my phone number, but asked her, if she was just going to call and lecture me about asking our mother to help me, not to bother piling on.  Emotionally, mentally, physically - I'm at the end of my rope.  I'm depressed more often than happy, and I really don't need the verbal beatdown my sister is so good at.  I also sent her the link for the surgery I'm to have.

Her response was a very lukewarm, "gee that's too bad, and I can put you on our prayer list".  I still don't know what to say to that, and said so.  Again - "well, I can't do anything for you, but I can listen".  I truly fail to understand this. 

Hmmm, you have degrees in medicine.  How long were you a nurse?  How often have you worked in hospitals?  Isn't your degree something to do with CCU?  You have no words of comfort?  Couldn't even acknowledge that I might be scared, and offer recognition that I'm alone?  Oh, that's right, I forgot.  I deserved to have my husband leave me - oh yes, I was a horrible wife.

Why I expected anything else, I just don't know.  It seems my very birth, as well as the fact that I'm 10 years younger, and was in a different "place" in my life when she divorced her 2nd husband will always be held against me. As will the record player and Puff the Magic Dragon.

I feel sorry for my mother most of the time.  She really wants the 5 of us to get along.  She wants the 5 of us to get together at holidays, and enjoy each other.  Several years ago, I flat out refused.  I apologized, but really?  Why should I go to a family dinner, and be treated like an outcast?  It's not like anyone talks to me.  My middle sister and brothers talk to each other.  They'll talk to my oldest sister.  When I try to strike up a conversation, no one hears me. 

I feel very fortunate, blessed, if you will, to have my friends.  They mean more to me than the people related to me by accident of birth.  They restore my faith in humanity, and make me think maybe... just maybe... I'm not the awful, life wrecking, sewer rat my family believes I am.