Both of their childhoods were marked by violence. But now the parents have become gentler, old and frail. One has to be able to forgive, says one sister. The other, our author Ada Linnen *, asks herself: Why doesn’t she understand that I can’t do that?
The time has come every few years: My sister and I get into each other’s hair. A trigger word is uttered and we poison each other straight away, throwing ourselves against ancient camels that no one can remember, and it becomes bitter. And unlike on TV, where after five minutes everyone is in each other’s arms again, we have an ice age. Silence and being offended, sometimes for years until the next argument. Let’s see each other at family celebrations, let’s play theater, talk about the weather and put on a blendax smile. The ice is thin, we prefer to stay on the surface.
There are worlds between us.
In times of cautious approach, there is only one coffee drink at most. Then it is just clarified where the other person is in life, deep thoughts and feelings are not mentioned. Any of my friends, tight or loose, know more about me than this pretty, humorous woman who slipped from the same belly as me. She would probably say the same. One can also say: We are connected with each other with heartfelt dislike. And although we are only over a year apart, we are now worlds apart.
To put it simply, we argue about our childhood. And our memory of it. Each of us knows: there have been beatings and humiliations. The main target were us, the sisters, our brother grew up differently, he came eleven years after us and was Mother’s crown son. We girls, on the other hand, had parents who were still children themselves, whose marriages were bad, who themselves came from toxic families. Whenever they had stress with each other – they chilled their little hats on their daughters. To this day they play us off against each other, even though they have long been separated and we are sisters in our early 50s. Those who behave “well” according to their parents ‘demands are at the top of the parents’ favor, those who criticize or have their own mind will be punished. It has always been like that. So right from the start, my sister and I were rivals for love.
Everyone dealt with childhood in their own way
We didn’t manage to fill in these trenches. They have only grown over the years. And the biggest bone of contention of all that hangs over us full of thorns is our childhood, because each of us has obviously dealt with these times differently. I, the tall one at the time, responsible for two siblings and the household after school, nibble on it to this day. My sister suppressed it boyishly, at least that’s how it looks to the outside world. I remember only a few beautiful things, she doesn’t even want to talk about the bad. My sister and her children often visit our parents, I have distanced myself from them and only keep in very loose contact. It wasn’t all that bad, my sister says, I would exaggerate. I say: Yes, it was, at least for me. To this day I hear Mother’s threat: “Wait until your father comes home!” Then it sat Senge for the failed washing up.
I’m happy for my sister that she was apparently able to suppress all of this. But why can’t she just respect that I’m different? She says: You also have to be able to let go. I say: I would rather do nothing. It has been going back and forth like this for years. I’ve done therapy for a long time, my sister only sends her children or life partners there. I didn’t trust myself to have children of my own, she had two. I can only begin to know how difficult it was for her. How can you get what you have never learned from? We did not have models for kindness, patience and warmth of heart. Grandmother was kind to us, our hearts flew to her, she was the lifeline for us children. As grandparents for my nieces and nephews, our parents also go to great lengths today. I wish we had only seen a glimpse of it back then, but there was nothing.
I can not do this. And don’t want that!
But now mother and father are becoming frail, they need support and entertainment – and suddenly they strike soft notes. Now they are asking for their children. My sister is there for you. And I, I am not. And this point is particularly delicate between us.
I can get along with my father reasonably well now, but I don’t dare to approach my mother. Too deep are the wounds she has inflicted on me. I can only credit myself for the fact that we are still in contact. She kicked me out of her life when I was in my early 30s. It was then that I dared criticize her for the first time; it was about her dealings with her own mother, my grandmother. That was enough for her to break up with me and keep silent about me. After seven years I was the one who picked up the thread again, but because there was no talk about the rift and no apology from her, fear is stuck in me. That she attacks me again at the slightest wrong word. My four-year-old self stands before her, not that of a seasoned woman.
I know that I am not alone with such fears. There are many like me out there, some are already 70 or 80 years old. They start to cry when they think about their childhood, and even as old people seek approval from their parents. Nobody deliberately persists in this infantile fear, it is a worn coat that is difficult to put in the used clothes collection. Though it belongs right there.
Overcome yourself? Not that easy at all
I could let go if I had the courage to explain myself to my mother. How I feel about her, without expecting regrets or even understanding on her part. But I remain in retreat because I want to protect myself. And drop out for visits and dizziness.
What’s going to happen, my sister rumbles annoyed, what should she do to you? She ascribes the role of mediator between me and my mother to herself. But do brokers sound so aggressive? And do you only listen to one page at a time? She is in constant contact with our mother about the problem, but she doesn’t talk to me about it. And when it does, it quickly becomes reproachful: I would queue up and only think about myself. I wonder if she really cares about me and my mother getting a better relationship – or whether she’s just angry because I withdraw as the caretaker and she has to take on my part. Is that really above all else? Is it perhaps more of the fulfillment of duty on her part than deep love and is that why she appeals to me?
Oh, the family
In the constellation between siblings everything is possible: from best buddy to hereditary enemy, from symbiosis to murder. Not to forget family dynamics that have it all: Are you the firstborn, sandwich child or baby boy? And every child has different parents – there are favorite children, black sheep, there is everything. And most of it happens quite unconsciously, far from all good intentions. In view of this almost insoluble complexity, I would like my sister and I to have a laugh about it, about this unnecessary, screwed-up madness. Good couple counselors recommend the quarreling couple: stepping out in the middle of the same gossip and looking at the whole thing from outside. And realize how much ridiculous there is in it, how much that is stuck.
After all these years I would like to say to my sister: Hey, life is too short, we will definitely regret it on our deathbeds. There is something that connects us, very similar, so let’s concentrate on that. After all these years, let’s focus on what connects us. After all, there is something that each would immediately do for the other: help in great need. This includes illness, divorce, money problems. And that’s a start.
* The author writes under a pseudonym.
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