In 2008, I visited North Carolina for a therapy session with my mother and sister. It went poorly. Tragically. Since, we each showed up with the intent to assess only my behaviors and personality.
I miscarried. And that was the least of the devastation.
For obvious reasons, I was unable to rally for a neighborhood trick-or-treat parade with my sister and her family. I needed time and space to rest and grieve the tragedy of that session, my family, and the loss of a pregnancy while nursing and caring for my 10-month-old. And was accused of denying my nieces access to their cousin.
My 10-year-old niece and I had been emailing and enjoying each other regularly. I would have liked seeing her and her sister under different circumstances.
Rather than facing our issues directly, my sister sent a birthday gift addressed to my one-year-old son with a typed note inside telling me not to interact with her girls until we had worked things out as a family.
I found it years later while purging for an upcoming move.
A declaration of war, not an invitation to peace.
The standard response to a boundary or me trying to inhabit my own space.
NOTE: The alliance between my sister and my ex was not left over from when we were married. There was no contact or connection while married—we lived on opposite coasts and were estranged. An alliance formed while he and I were struggling as divorced co-parents after what had been a hard-won improvement following our high-conflict divorce.
She tried to erase me while accusing me of abandoning family.
Ceremonious burning of the letters, intended to wound me. Mission Accomplished.
She divided nieces from their aunt, my mother from me, and increasingly inserted herself into the relationship between my ex-husband and me.
My sons knew there was tension between their mother and father involving her.
What they wanted more than anything was the possibility that Mom and Dad could work together and sit together at a meal or occasion.
Instead, she fanned the flames of division…… the pattern.
I could not pretend. And I cleanly, clearly, and repeatedly presented myself for healing and repair.
It was easy to convince me that it was my imagination or my fault without the written record.
I do not earn, cause, deserve, or imagine what it has meant to be her younger sister.
Whatever else may be true, this also happened.
