Up until now, I have written very little about my sister. She is seven years younger than me, which that in itself has caused our relationship much strain. Like I said in an earlier post the arrival time of my sister on the scene was about the time my parents started having problems. When I was young I always associated her arrival as a possible reason for trouble in the family; I DO NOT believe that now, but as a child the timing just made me feel that way.
Because she was seven years younger we just had nothing in common! I was already seven years old, walking, talking, getting educated, meeting friends-I just lived in a different world from her and did not know where in my world she fit in. It is a certainty she must have felt this, especially as she grew older, but it was never my intent to make her feel that way it is just the way it was. As we grew older and I started drinking and taking drugs at about the age of 13 she was only 6 years old, how could I invite her into my life? It just wasn’t possible. I know she must have felt lonely and confused but that was not my intention at all, just the circumstances of our dysfunctional life.
I don’t remember if I already talked about this, but I was around the age of 8 and she was probably 2 years old. Our mom went to the store really quick to pick up some milk, I think. Anyhow, she left my sister and me at home alone. Again, this was a time people did things like that without going to jail! Not long after my mom was gone my sister removed her dirty diaper and started smearing it on the walls. I first remember being bewildered, wondering how a 2-year-old would even think to do such a thing and WHY? At that point, I had already made the decision, at 8 years of age, that she was out to get me! I called my Aunt Dottie, who contacted my mom at the grocery store. My mother thought it hysterical. She got away with it, no punishment, just laughter from my mother. I, on the other hand, was pissed!
After that, I really don’t remember most of the interactions between me and my sister. I guess when a family is struggling with abuse it’s every man for himself and a lot has faded from memory. I do remember one Easter, my cousin, Stephen spent that Saturday night with us. The next morning, Easter, we were playing with her and she was running around the coffee table, fell and got a small cut on her cheek that needed a couple of stitches, I believe. My mom smoked a cigarette, called my grandfather and I believe they took her to the hospital to get the stitches.
Another memory I have was of my sister and my cousin Jason dancing together in my Aunt Donna’s room. It really was cute. My aunt took a picture of them dancing and then another picture of them holding hands; that is the picture I will be using for this blog! So cute! Anyway, there will be more about my sister in future blogs, especially since we were left home a lot during the current time I am now blogging about, but just felt the need to put in a piece about my sister. We are now good friends and sisters and love each other very much…but that was a long time coming, as you will find out in future blogs. I was not a perfect sister, not because I didn’t want to be, but didn’t know how to be and couldn’t be mostly because of my drug and alcohol abuse, which is about to get much, much worse!
Sis, I hope you are ok with this piece about yourself! If not, Goodbye Felicia! LOL! Below is the promised picture of my sister with our cousin: