We harrass each other out of love
July 6, 2007 | Filed under: Familia
“The mildest, drowsiest sister has been known to turn tiger if her sibling is in trouble.” ~Clara Ortega
When my mother went to Prague in October of 2001, I subsisted on a diet of peach schnapps and frozen thin mints. I bit my nails and cuticles until they bled. She left six weeks after a terrorist attack and was very ‘ho hum’ about it all. Meanwhile our last conversation was a constant loop in my head. A conversation during which she told me who to call in the event anything should happen and where her will was located and that my inheritance had already been promised to American University, so I shouldn’t be expecting anything.
I’m not one to usually miss my parents or family in such extreme ways, interesting given my fondness for going to the extreme. But there was such a strong and recent fear that something would happen that I could hardly control myself. Everything I did during the 10 days she was in Prague was completely methodical and done in such a way that it was as if I had no control. That’s how strong and real the fear was.
Fear not, because now she’ll leave the country and I tend to forget and then when I do remember I frantically send her an email reminding her to stop at Zara on La Rambla or to get me my favorite perfume in Paris. Then I go back to my humdrum life of being distracted by shiny objects.
I was able to joke about G not having a list for going to Senegal (then Ghana) because it was days away, so it didn’t feel real. We’re notorious for our ups and downs and for attempting to kill each other and locking each other outside for hours. But he’s my baby brother and I love him with the fire of a billion suns and I think I might spend the next five weeks biting my nails until they bleed and drinking Hefeweizen and listening to the CD he made me last night.
It’s torture knowing that someone you love – but would never dare let him know – is so very far away in such an unfamiliar place. My mind goes to those extremes and “what ifs” because that’s just how I work, I think the worse.
He’ll of course come back in five weeks and I’ll complain about not having the bathroom to myself anymore and why I didn’t bust down the wall between our rooms to make a master suite for myself. I’ll complain that he stole my DVDs and opens my netflix envelopes and I’ll have to resist the urge to crack a bottle of wine over his head.
But until then I’m totally going to miss that infuriating, maddening, giant sized, motherfucker.
heather anne says:
Aww. Aren’t you sweet?
(The answer is yes. Don’t try to deny it!)
Dagny says:
Ummm. What happens if he reads this upon returning? Glad that he made it out on his trip. I hope he actually remembered all of the necessities.
Rosemary says:
We never do appreciate the ones we love until they’ve gone away, do we? One of life’s cruel ironies, that is.
GreenCanary says:
How cute is it that he made you a CD? No one’s made me a CD in ages.
And now I’m sad.
gorillabuns says:
aaawwwww…. secretly, he feels the love and he showed it in a cd. at least it wasn’t a pen.
LisaB says:
Don’t make yourself crazy, Hon. Just be glad he’s having a nifty adventure!
Maria says:
That’s the awesome thing about siblings. You can love them and hate them simultaneously.