Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: MONDAY, May 23, 1994 TAG: 9405230096
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: Joe Kennedy
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
Maybe your family was the inspiration for ``The Brady Bunch.'' If so, congratulations. Most of us, I'll wager, grew up in a less than friction-free environment. Our childhood memories - of blackmail, betrayal and murderous impulses, though not, perhaps, murder itself - never die.
Even those of us who get along well with our siblings in person or on the phone can have difficulty subduing our private misgivings about them.
What gives siblings their power?
``They know us too well,'' says Tom Ollendick, who teaches psychology at Virginia Tech, and who has five brothers and a sister. ``They know the strings to pull and the chains to jerk. They know the old issues we have, and they remind us of those old issues. That is irritating.''
Ollendick says we can improve our sibling relationships by ``planned, deliberate activities that make for closer union and change.''
For example: ``We have an annual fishing trip in northern Minnesota where all the siblings and our father get together and spend a week.'' The reunion - to which their spouses are not invited - helps them get along. ``That's not to imply that we're in contact every week or every month, for that matter. But there is that kind of new dose of relationship building.''
Without such special efforts, achieving a lasting closeness with our siblings can be a taxing job. A woman I know says her three brothers are all nice guys - but, she jokes, they're not people whom she would automatically choose as friends. They get together mainly on family vacations, where they pretend to be closer than they really are, because it pleases their mother.
Another friend of mine says he's embarrassed that his mother still treats him, the oldest child, like a lord. When his family gets together, she'll stand at the stove, cooking a dish she mastered 40 years ago, and pausing intermittently to give him a taste and obtain his approval. What, he wonders, must his younger brothers and sister think?
Some sibling stories are happier. A friend of mine who professes no compelling interest in keeping up with his siblings did fly to his sister's bedside after she was badly injured in a traffic accident. And a friend of mine who lives in Charlotte is remarkably close to his eight brothers and sisters, who are spread across the United States.
His nieces and nephews are growing up quickly. This summer, he'll attend weddings in Chicago, Baltimore and Virginia Beach. He'll take his spouse and children with him, and his siblings will do the same.
``We travel as a unit,'' he says. I admire their spirit.
My siblings and I fall somewhat short of that ideal. We turn out for the weddings, the christenings and the funerals, but the rest of the time, infrequent telephone calls suffice.
Last year, after her oldest daughter's wedding, my sister gingerly suggested that we institute a ``family letter'' as a means of communicating more regularly. Every fourth month, each of us would take a turn writing to the others. What could be simpler?
My sister majored in journalism and psychology. I figured she saw this as a way to divine what's really going on in our lives, behind the marquee news. For me, the youngest, it would be a chance finally to communicate on equal terms, with the rules spelled out.
Dream on. Our eldest sibling, the Sun God, who lives in Michigan with his wife and nine children, delegated the chore to three of his daughters. The headlines were spectacular: one child studying in the south of France, a daughter taking flying lessons, younger sons starring at soccer. But his personal voice and reflections were missing. How else to avoid revealing any flaws?
My sister's letter was an exquisite blend of pride and modesty mixed with news of elderly relatives. She did not, however, take my brother to task for evading his promise to compose, rather than commission, a letter to the rest of us.
My other brother, the forgotten child who does everything well and doesn't know it, skipped his month entirely, without explanation. His letter arrived at the end of April, just as mine was about to go out.
The news was upbeat, his kids are doing fine, but it was late - L-A-T-E, LATE. Hasn't he ever heard of deadlines?
The experiment has gotten off to a rocky start, from my perspective at the back of the pack.
My siblings may see it differently. I certainly haven't told them of my complaints. I learned a long time ago that our siblings will never change, no matter how much we might want them to. We just have to accept them as they are, and hope they'll do the same.
It's one more barrier between us and a perfect life. Hey, at least we're not bored.
by CNB