The Love of a Sibling

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It’s two o’clock in the morning.

I’m not entirely sure, but in truth I think I’m a little bit scared. Finally. I guess it was bound to happen at some point, but with still twelve days to go until The Big Adventure, I’m hoping that this is just a case of reality and nerves catching up with me. It had to happen at some point. (Please note the attempt at a grownup attitude, I’m guessing that had to happen at some point also.)

Yesterday I did the final bits of shopping for the bicycling trip and now the kitchen table and floor are covered in practical maintenance and repair kits, first aid packs, and an awful lot of detailed maps from the north to the south of France. Quite how everything is going to fit into two panniers and a basket, well tomorrow’s packing will tell and that’s not even including a couple of extra clothes and half of the Clinique counter (did I mention that I’d been shopping?).

The Colonel is away for a couple of days so there’s a sense of quiet and loneliness in the house. ‘My Rock’ (what a ghastly cliche!) is on business up north so my stability and routine maker isn’t here. The time to behave like a grownup therefore is here. What I should be doing is rolling over and going back to sleep, but the child in me wants my thoughts bashed out here to you, you unfortunate blighters! Sorry about that.

I spoke yesterday on the telephone to my sister. My sister who has been so unutterably encouraging for me to do this trip. I had thought that she’d call me barking mad and try to persuade me otherwise. Foolishly, I had underestimated her knowledge of me. She understands my need to challenge myself and be finally free of my fears. And for that and for so many other reasons I love her. She has tolerated my past, my nonsense and my mistakes. Where we differ is that she holds her cards close to her chest whereas mine have not just been worn on the proverbial sleeve, but splayed out with garish colours across the street, with trumpets sounding and much hysterical wailing and despite it not being how she might deal with life’s ups and downs, she tolerates that about me too.

The love of a sibling when both your parents have gone is even stronger. She has looked after her irritating baby sister and together we have laughed, cried, occasionally squabbled but also coped together with the worst of emotions, grief. Grief borne from the deaths of our parents. And we have bonded again and again over shared memories that nobody else now in the world can possibly know of. Memories of parents, of childhood, of each other from times long since passed.

I shall telephone her again tomorrow and somehow and no doubt rather awkwardly tell her how much I appreciate her and then we’ll change the subject quickly and talk about our children and laugh about the adventures and journeys that their lives are taking them on. Night night …

Katie x

31 thoughts on “The Love of a Sibling”

  1. Remember the nerves for this adventure are good. It’s all new, so bound to be scary and nervous. I would too. But just remember how you are going to feel afterwards, minus the tiredness. You will feel great for doing this and a big confidence booster too. X

    Liked by 1 person

    1. You’re right and it would be odd I suppose if there weren’t any nerves at this point. I guess that feeling of fear sometimes actually keeps us alive. Fight or flight and all that! Thanks very much for the support … I think I need all I can get! X

      Liked by 1 person

    1. Ok. I’m glad that you don’t mind having a friend who is quirky, faintly unhinged and probably rather annoying at times. It shows you have a very tolerant nature … an excellent trait to have in a friend. Umm, it could be that you’d want to be the one blocking me of course?

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  2. I SO wanted a sister but I had to be content with being the jam in a brother sandwich. However, I have the joy of seeing my four girls being sisters and it makes my heart glow in a quite ET-ish manner. You will make the crossing and you will arrive in France and you will meander your way often sore and aching from top to almost bottom and all your planning and your padded power pants and Claude will see you through and you will be mighty proud of yourself. Your sister knows that. So does the Rock. Actually they know that you are the one who rocks so sleep tight and fear not 💤

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Awww, my most supportive friend! Thank you. My mother used to get such huge pleasure from seeing my sister and I laughing and chattering together and now with my two boys I completely understand why. For you, with your four girls … wow! It must be wonderful. How much pleasure you must derive from having them all together Xx

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Your relationship sounds wonderful ..she is the ying to your yang. I am a heart on sleeve girl. I am never sure if it is a good or bad thing ?? I would be anxious too but after you have done it you will feel fabulous. Hope you can still blog ??

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  4. Your are so fortunate to have a sister. My 3 brothers all live abroad and we have had little contact since supporting each other through my mums illness and finally loosing her. I so wished I had had someone to share my grief with but for some reason they closed off after the funeral.. Men!! (maybe). Thankfully I have a wonderful daughter who is my sister , my friend and my daughter although I have to remember the last one at times.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Grief from a death can bring out all sorts of behaviours, including cutting people off … and you’re right I do think that men can have difficulties in expressing their feelings. Not all, but rather a lot! I’m so glad you have a daughter – she must be a ray of sunshine in your life 😘😘

      Liked by 1 person

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