Snow White and Rose Red

I am the oldest of six siblings.  This fact is generally only mentioned in passing these days, and then only rarely but is such a major part of the fabric of my being.  From the moment my parents brought my sister Ann came home from the hospital when I was the ripe old age of seventeen months, I have been “the big sister”.  I have been programmed to be a helper, to look beyond myself to others and assess needs.

Since we were so close in age and I was puny and Ann a chubby thing, we were also pretty close in size.  This lack of age and size difference, compounded with the rapid additions of other brothers and a sister, allowed me to pretty much share the role with Ann.  Until our sister Barb came along years later, we were simply “the girls”, co-big sisters to our younger brothers, “the boys”, John and Scott.

Here we are in 1960 – I was 4, Ann was 3.  Did you notice the kitten squirming on my lap?

Ann and I were like Snow White and Rose Red; I had the light hair and eyes, Ann the dark brown hair and eyes.  I was shy and easily frightened, Ann was outgoing and seemed to have little fears.  We shared a bedroom for seventeen years.  She was tidy, I was a pack rat.  We spent almost every hour of every day together until I went to school.  Because of her birthday, Ann had to wait two years more at home until it was her turn to board the yellow bus.  It seemed so unfair.  Of the two of us, she was probably more ready to go to school.

My school age years ushered in a very awkward time for me.  Along with exposing me to reading, writing and arithmetic, I was exposed to a new set of bacteria and viruses.  In kindergarten I contracted the measles and spent two weeks at home on the couch.  Ann and the boys were rushed to the doctor for shots of gamma globulin.  Subsequent years offered me the full line of childhood ailments from mumps to chicken pox.  Each assisted in maintaining my bony waif-like appearance.

My next step into self consciousness was the addition of eyeglasses in first grade.  Although I could see better, I also felt limited by what kind of physical activity I could do.  I was forever afraid my glasses would fall off my face and break.  Once time they did and in those days prior to super glue, my dad repaired them with some electrical tape and a piece of coat hanger – not so attractive, but effective.

At the end of first grade, after my first holy Communion, my front teeth which were hanging my the tiniest of fibers until the photos were taken, were allowed to come out to make way for my permanent teeth.  Sadly, only one tooth came in.  It’s partner finally took its place almost four years later following a couple of surgeries and the addition of braces. This completed the look – I was a shy, skinny pale kid with glasses and braces and one front tooth.   Comparatively, Ann was the poster child for good nutrition, with beautiful glowing skin and perfect white teeth.  To me, she was the epitome of beauty.

In many ways, she still is.  Ann exudes grace.  No matter what challenges life offers, Ann is not a whiner.  In fact, when I talk to her on the phone, I can actually hear her smile.  We don’t get to talk as often as either of us would like, living on opposite coasts makes the timing tricky.   I think of her constantly, probably more now because the noises of my own life have quieted and I have more time to reflect.  Ann was my first playmate, confident and sparring partner – yes, of course we fought! But most of all, Ann is my sister and together with our other sister, Barb, we share a bond that can not be broken by years or miles.  For better or worse, we are tethered tightly together.  No spoken vows are required, just the bond that is sisterhood.