Day 5- My Siblings

Day 5 of the 30 Days of Blogging

Bent or broken, it's the family tree
Bent or broken, it's the family tree
Each branch a part of a part of me
This is my tree, and it's a beautiful tree

These lyrics fit well. These are my siblings. They make up a part of me. They might be bent, they might be broken, they might be distant, they might be loony, they might drink too much, they might be sick, they might tell too many lies, but, they are still a part of my tree. And yes, most days, I do think it's a beautiful tree.

My sister Tanya. She is the oldest of my Mom's 5. We have, I guess you would say, a love~hate relationship. One day she loves me, the next day she won't even speak to me. It has always been this way. She is better now that we are older. But we will go months without really speaking to each other. And then there will be a couple of weeks where we will talk 3 or 4 times in one week. And then back to the months without really talking. And I have learned that I am completely ok with this. She is a painter, she makes jewelry, she is flighty, and she has a thing for plastic surgery. First thing she had done was her boobs, and since then, she has had her nose done, her lips a few times, several chemical peels, her eyes a few times.... every time I see her, she looks a bit different. But no matter what she looks like on the outside, she will always drive me crazy, but she will always be my sister, and I will always love her.

Tanya's family : L to R
Tanya, husband Gary, her kids: John, Michelle & Ben

My brother Doug. The oldest of my Mom's boys. When we were kids, he tormented the hell out of me. Being the youngest, and a girl, I just didn't have a chance! After high school he joined the Marines. There is 7 years between us, so when we were kids, we weren't close. But now that we are adults, he is my closest sibling. That actually didn't start until he and his ex-wife separated a few years ago. We have gotten rather close since then. He is a wonderful Dad. A good son to our Mom. And a good brother to me. He has a good sense of humor and is a lot of fun, as long as you catch him on a good day. He is a quiet person, not saying much most days - and he can be rather grumpy. But, I am glad he is my brother, and that we have gotten closer.

Doug - on a non grumpy day! :)

My brother Johnny. When he was just a baby, he was diagnosed with hydrocephalus. At first, they didn't know if he would walk, and then if he would be able to ride a bike, or drive a car, or live on his own. But he did. Learning to walk and ride a bike might have been much harder for him, but he had more determination than anyone else. And he was always happy - always smiling - always making everyone around him laugh. Until he was in his mid twenties. He got sick. Not that kind of sick. It's a mental illness. And ever since then, he has not been the same. They finally got him on a a good mix of medications, and it was working. Until the pharmacy screwed it up. And it has been down hill ever since- just a battle to keep him 'ok'. I miss the smiling, silly person he was. Every now and then, we see a glimpse of the Johnny he used to be, and it makes me miss him more.


Johnny - with a smile that used to always be there

My brother Ray. He is the youngest of Mom's boys. He was the one she didn't know she was pregnant with when her husband died. She has always said that he was her last gift from Tommy. I was closest to Ray than any of my other siblings when we were kids. I can remember laying in my room, listening to music with him. All of my friends in school just adored him. (and I do believe that some of those 'friends' were only friends with me to try and get closer to Ray - but what can I say, he was a cutey! :) Ray has not always made the best decisions in life. He has a 'poor me' kinda attitude. I keep hoping that one day, he will wake up with completely sober eyes, and realize that his life, and his family, are precious to him, and that he doesn't want to do anything to jeopardize them. I fear that I will get a phone call saying he was in accident, drinking and driving. I hope those sober eyes come - and that that phone call never does.


Ray and his girlfriend Tonya

My sister Marty. She is my Dad's oldest daughter. She is his first wife's daughter, and he adopted her. I did not know this until I was older. But it didn't matter. She was my sister. No matter what. She is just a year younger than my Mom. She lives in Georgia, has 3 kids, and 3 grand kids. She just oozes that southern sweetness!! It probably isn't right - but she was always my favorite sibling on my Dad's side. I never felt unwanted by her. I didn't see her often, but usually once a year my Dad would take me to visit her and her family. And I always had a great time. I wish we were closer - in location and as siblings.

My brother Greg. He is my Dad's only son. I was closer to Greg than I was my Dad's other kids. Probably because we saw him the most. He had kids close to my age, and he and my Dad were really close. He worked for a company that would repair train derailments. Which I always found fascinating. I hadn't seen him in several years when his wife passed. He looks so much like our Dad. Seeing him, I realized that I have missed him. But, it made me really miss Dad.

My sister Pam. She is my Dad's youngest daughter with his first wife. When I was little, once a month, Dad and I would go to her house for Sunday dinner. Dinner was always good, and it was nice to talk to them for a little bit, but I was a kid, and soon would go down to their basement and watch Charlotte's Web. Pam also collected turtle figures. I would walk around and count how many turtles she had. I also remember that she always drank her beer out of a glass, while Dad and her husband would drink out of the can. I hadn't seen her in years when I saw her at Greg's wife's funeral. She hadn't changed much. She has Dad's forehead and eyes. I miss those eyes. How they crinkle just a bit when she would smile. Just like Dad's always did.

Me, Greg and Marty at Greg's wife's funeral
Pam left right after the funeral, and I am sad to
say, that I do not have any pic's of her

All this reminiscing has me sad. I have siblings that, although I know them, I do not 'know' them. They are a part of my Dad. They are a part of me. And I guess, in a sense, with not knowing them, or speaking with them, a part of me is missing. They are a link to my Dad. They have more stories and more memories of him than I do. Stories and memories that I would love to know. And actually, I would just like to know them again.