Brother – numero uno – the boy who could do no wrong. (Well, until he hit his teens at least.)
Sister 1- (me) the smart one. (It’s a misnomer but I like it. No smarter than the others but looking smart was important to me so I worked hard.)
Sister 2- the pretty one (and the only true blonde) (and our social butterfly)
Sister 3- the other one, the after thought (and forever in our minds, the baby.)
When baby was born we were 12, 9 and 6. Three years between siblings is a rather big gap. Six nine and twelve years- that’s huge. But the differences shrink as we age.
My sister and I who share the middle spot light keep in touch the most. But I’m the only one who moved far away, so perhaps the rest of them are closer than I know.
Moving away made me the favourite child. (Another deluded belief that I cling to simply to annoy the others.) It made my children the most fussed over by their grandparents because they saw them so seldom and had to cram a year’s worth of love and attention into short holiday spaces.
My brother’s first grandchild will arrive this summer. We all share his joy.
I love my siblings dearly – I love their spouses and I love their families – I cannot imagine my life without them in it.
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