As with most siblings, my sister, Kathy, and I didn’t always get along when we were younger. She and I were constantly bickering and being mean to each other. And as the younger one, I got picked on the most.
As I look back, I realize that our relationship was not all vicious. It’s just that most of what I remember, what sticks out in my mind most, is how cruel she was to me so very often.
I guess I can’t place all of the blame on her. Maybe I did antagonize her a little, or maybe I was not very nice myself. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t always bad, but for whatever the reason, it took quite some time to get over it.
When you’re little you look up to your older siblings. You want to be like them and hang out with them. My sister is three and half years older than me so, of course, I thought she was so cool. I remember wanting to hang out with her and her friends and always being pushed aside and ignored. So it’s no wonder I became distant.
Our family used to take a vacation to Santa Barbara every summer. It was both my sister’s and my favorite trip. We looked forward to it every year.
Most of the time the car ride there would start out well. We would play games with each other to keep ourselves occupied on the four-hour car ride. But things always seemed to get worse as the drive progressed. It was the same for almost every trip we took – and we took a lot of trips.
By the end of the drive Kathy and I would have the armrest of Mom’s Cadillac down, serving as a barrier between us. One side was mine and the other was hers. Neither one of us dared cross the barrier and risk the consequences.
I was 15 when Kathy went away to college. Somehow she managed to change her attitude toward me at that time. All of a sudden I was no longer her pesky little sister. I was actually an equal. When she would call, she would ask to talk to me. And when she came home, she would want to spend time together.
I welcomed the friendliness, and I appreciated the effort she was making. She seemed sincere in wanting to be a loving sister, but a part of me always remembers the mean little girl who used to call me names and hit me and try to get me in trouble. I wondered why she all of a sudden wanted to be my friend and was cautious to act the same way toward her.
As hard as it has been, I, too, have grown up, and I’ve tried really hard to look past those bad things. Our relationship is better now that we get along; it makes me wish we had always gotten along well so that our bond would be stronger.
It’s kind of crazy that we are so close now. It all started when she moved away for college. Then last year she moved even father away, to attend graduate school in Colorado, and somehow we became closer than ever. With more distance between us, we become stronger.
It’s ironic. The distance has done us well.
I shocked my mom this summer when I decided to take a trip to visit my sister in Colorado. The two-week visit was fun, and I realized I actually do miss her sometimes.
Still, author Pam Brown had the right idea when she said, “Sisters never quite forgive each other for what happened when they were five.”
Chrissy Zehrbach, a junior journalism major, is sports editor for the Campus Times. She can be reached by e-mail at sqweet@aol.com.
