Siblings

We have been fortunate this past week to have my oldest brother and my sister-in-law visiting from Melbourne, Australia. I am the youngest of four siblings and the only girl. It was lovely to reminisce about growing up and the things he remembered or knew about our parents and grandparents were good to hear. Lots of strolling down memory lane for the two of us. We are lucky that both of us have lovely spouses that we get on with, so it was a happy couple of days we spent together.

One thing I commented on to my husband and my brother and his wife was how different the relationship can be from our growing up as siblings and now as adults. I am sure I am not alone in saying that if you had told me – as a child – how much I would want to spend time with my brothers, I probably wouldn’t have believed you. As the youngest and particularly the only girl, I often felt left out and the boys did ‘boy things’ and didn’t want their nuisance little sister around. A story I am sure is similar for other families too.

My oldest brother went into the army when he was 17 and I was only 11 years old. He was a moody teenager and I was maybe a bit scared of him because of his somewhat gruff exterior at times? That’s how I remembered it anyway! So, getting to know him in his adult years – and mine – has been wonderful. At 11 and 17 the age gap seemed huge and I was very much the ‘little sister’ for many years.

We also talked about how, for some reason there were kids down both ends of our street who disliked us just because we were Catholics. In fact, they used to throw rocks at me on a regular basis. I retaliated only once personally, but I do remember coming home crying one day as I had had a well-aimed rock thrown at me and it connected! Seeing me come home crying all three of my brothers were home and when told what had happened they went off to sort them out!

Talking to my brother and reminiscing, it brought to mind that unwritten creed amongst siblings that while we may fight and bicker – sometimes physically, sometimes with words – heaven help anyone else who tried to mess with any of us. That just was not acceptable.

Now as I fight another foe – that of this creature called Parkies – I am safe in the knowledge that whatever it should throw at me, my brothers will always be in my corner. If I need them in the future, I know that they will come. It may not even be that Parkies has got really bad, but that we need the support and distraction of having visitors who love us. I, in turn hope that if they need me, that they will call me and hopefully I can be there for them too.

I think about how much my brothers mean to me and I harken back to those childhood days. Even the tough times when we didn’t get on so well or perhaps didn’t understand each other we knew that ultimately, we had each other’s backs!

I have met people who have Parkinson’s and they have not told their adult children or perhaps even their siblings of their diagnosis. One stated she did not want to burden her children with her problems as they had their own life challenges. While I respect anyone’s right to make their own choices, for me I chose to tell those dear to me straight away. I did not want to rob them of the chance of being able to offer me – and my husband – support in the future. The telling does not have to be something we do with any expectations of those we share the diagnosis with. It is simply an update on our lives in all their complexities that we want to share to give those we love the opportunity to support us. My biggest hope is that should I no longer be around that my husband has a relationship with my siblings and with my adult children and that they will wrap around and support him when he needs it.

Siblings can be a wonderful thing to have as our lives change and we grow older.

To love and be loved is one of the essentials of life.