I just got off the phone with my sister and she says to me, "I'm glad you called, we should do this again sometime." She had a friend over who started laughing which made her burst into a few chuckles which prompted me to ask what was so funny? "Oh he's just laughing at what I said."I pondered that a moment and then joined the giggle fest, but I continued to wonder. What kind of a sister says that? As if I'm an old friend she hasn't seen in awhile and we have more catching up to do. We're sisters! Of course we're going to do this again sometime. I'm not sure if it's actually humorous that she made the pat comment as something you say at the end of a conversation or meeting. Or if it's sad because she actually meant it.
I miss my sisters terribly. I'm not sure how much they miss me since I've received about 2% of the calls made betwixt us. But I miss them. I moved away from them when I got married. Far, far away. Far away enough to matter to an adult, let alone 11 and 17 year old little girls. What a fragile time of growth and emotional frustration. And I wasn't there. KaraLynn was about to become a senior in high school, to graduate and begin to figure out what she wanted. Mollie was about to turn 12 in 23 days, her teenage years just around the corner. And I wasn't there.
KaraLynn has always been a shy and fastidious young woman, always good for a laugh. And I mean that quite literally. She will laugh at the drop of a hat. In fact, I told her that once, then proceeded to drop an actual hat on the floor of our living room. She is a smile-a-minute. I remember filling our summer days and evenings with the Sarah and Kara Show (using my first name as a stage moniker - you know. . .rhyme's no crime) where we'd interview anyone who would let us and record the most ridiculous c
onversations. Looking back, I'm fairly certain we had better material than most of the unfortunate waste you see on tv today.
Mollie was the wild card. We all knew it from the moment she was born. From before she was even born - when she developed meconium a
spiration. Look it up. Knowing her personality now, it is so something she would do. She grew up
as a total goof - finding joy in almost everything she saw or heard or felt and especially smelled. That little fart factory. I remember when our mum told us that, during dinner time, if we felt the need we needed to excuse ourselves quietly and go to the bathroom. Of course, Mollie turned it into such an exaggerated affair. She would loudly excuse herself, run ram-rod straight into the bathroom which just so happened to be right off of the dining room, then let 'er rip so audibly that she might as well not have left in the first place. Then, she'd come back out, smiling to high-heaven. Pleased as punch.
Kiki, as we affectionately have always called KaraLynn, was a freak about her baby dolls. Her mothering instinct was frightening at times. She bit my back through a thick wool blanket because I stole one of her babies and threw it up on the ceiling fan. Props to her because I was old enough to know better. She broke the skin.
Mollie has always been a fantastic artist. She began enjoying anime from an early age, starting with nursery anime like Powerpuff Girls and Samurai Jack. She would always feel most akin to Buttercup from PPG, even dressing the part for Halloween. Her drawing style began to reflect this huge-eyed, bobble-headed and mitten-handed approach. But she gave it her own twist.
Kiki is now working way too hard at a job that, though respecting her more than her previous one, still takes advantage of her bright-eyed willingness to please and keep herself busy. Too busy. So busy that I fear she's not dealing with our parents' divorce in the best way. In any way. She tells people what they want to hear. Not to be mean or sneaky. But because that's her coping mechanism. Yet, I'm not worried about her. She'll come around. However. . .
Mollie is slipping away and has become everything she never wanted to be. Certainly, everything I never wanted. It completely breaks my heart to admit that Mollie is, in some ways, gone. When a little 11 year old grows up, of course she changes. Her priorities adjust, her interests advance. A metamorphosis is expected. This is different. This is a mistake. This is a total 180 and I hate it. I loathe it. This little girl had a simple dream of wanting to work in a Wendy's someday - a dream that's actually reachable now! We're not talking "I wanna be a princess, spaceman, actor, etc. . ." This is something that requires no skill but the ability to walk and talk and be somewhere on time. And in 3 years, she hasn't been able to muster the. . .what? Drive? Energy? Motivation? Gall? What?! I realize it's scary. Of all people, the one with the anxiety issues and the social paralysis. . .I get it! But Mollie has always been a go-getter. She is an extrovert. She is confident. Or should I be saying "was"?? Because here I am. . .wishing I had even an ounce of the courage and backbone that kid grew up with. Just a measly ounce. And she's wasting it. She is wasting it. I'm getting angry.
I don't know what happened first. But I do know what's continuing to contribute to this total personality overhaul. And it sucks. Because I can't do anything about it. Because, as the last person she would listen to, the last person she respected, my words, like all that have come before me, have finally been turned into poison. I don't care if it's deliberate and manipulative or not. It is dangerous and venomous. And it's disguised in devotion. Which makes it all the more frightening.
How do you reach a girl who's in love with punishing herself? And how do I do it when I'm not there?
Kiki, as we affectionately have always called KaraLynn, was a freak about her baby dolls. Her mothering instinct was frightening at times. She bit my back through a thick wool blanket because I stole one of her babies and threw it up on the ceiling fan. Props to her because I was old enough to know better. She broke the skin.
Mollie has always been a fantastic artist. She began enjoying anime from an early age, starting with nursery anime like Powerpuff Girls and Samurai Jack. She would always feel most akin to Buttercup from PPG, even dressing the part for Halloween. Her drawing style began to reflect this huge-eyed, bobble-headed and mitten-handed approach. But she gave it her own twist.
Kiki is now working way too hard at a job that, though respecting her more than her previous one, still takes advantage of her bright-eyed willingness to please and keep herself busy. Too busy. So busy that I fear she's not dealing with our parents' divorce in the best way. In any way. She tells people what they want to hear. Not to be mean or sneaky. But because that's her coping mechanism. Yet, I'm not worried about her. She'll come around. However. . .
Mollie is slipping away and has become everything she never wanted to be. Certainly, everything I never wanted. It completely breaks my heart to admit that Mollie is, in some ways, gone. When a little 11 year old grows up, of course she changes. Her priorities adjust, her interests advance. A metamorphosis is expected. This is different. This is a mistake. This is a total 180 and I hate it. I loathe it. This little girl had a simple dream of wanting to work in a Wendy's someday - a dream that's actually reachable now! We're not talking "I wanna be a princess, spaceman, actor, etc. . ." This is something that requires no skill but the ability to walk and talk and be somewhere on time. And in 3 years, she hasn't been able to muster the. . .what? Drive? Energy? Motivation? Gall? What?! I realize it's scary. Of all people, the one with the anxiety issues and the social paralysis. . .I get it! But Mollie has always been a go-getter. She is an extrovert. She is confident. Or should I be saying "was"?? Because here I am. . .wishing I had even an ounce of the courage and backbone that kid grew up with. Just a measly ounce. And she's wasting it. She is wasting it. I'm getting angry.
I don't know what happened first. But I do know what's continuing to contribute to this total personality overhaul. And it sucks. Because I can't do anything about it. Because, as the last person she would listen to, the last person she respected, my words, like all that have come before me, have finally been turned into poison. I don't care if it's deliberate and manipulative or not. It is dangerous and venomous. And it's disguised in devotion. Which makes it all the more frightening.
How do you reach a girl who's in love with punishing herself? And how do I do it when I'm not there?
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