The Re-Education of the Relational Self: Siblings (Part 3)

Baby of the Family

Apparently, I wore a lot of red as a child. Certainly all of these were Todd Tiahrt t-shirts because my dad was a big supporter of his. 

My youngest sister, Rachel is one of the most outgoing, stubborn, affectionate, and pure people I know. She has never known a stranger and is well-known within her circles as always having either a sweet or sassy comment to accompany her hugs.  I think she may be an Enneagram 2 with a 3 wing. She's very passionate about her family and loves each member fiercely. I suspect she knows more about the family tree than I do. Her little quirks have made it into the family style of communication and she corrects us anytime we get it wrong. She dreams of being a policewoman and told me recently that she has to work on getting to 100 push-ups. Damn girl, leave some ambition for the rest of us. She has always been everyone else's biggest cheerleader, and she is undeterred when it comes to what she wants. Essentially, she is a gem.

A few weeks ago, I spent a long weekend "babysitting" Rachel while my mom went out of town to spend time with some old friends. She made sure to tell me every day that I was the best sister, but she also eagerly awaited our mother's return. I'll admit, so did I. It wasn't completely due to the extra effort and attention she takes or how I made a mental list of all the things I could have been doing at home if I hadn't volunteered to stay with her. It was something else that utterly surprised me. Rachel is, by birthright, the baby of the family, and I am jealous. 

Rachel was born at home when I was four years old. My earliest memory of her was when my father put cucumbers on her eyes. I don't remember what he said the reasoning was, but I do remember thinking how silly it was because nobody else put cucumbers on the eyes of their babies. Rachel was born with Down Syndrome, so her eyes are characteristically slanted; I can only hope that wasn't what my dad was trying to remedy. 

As she got older, Rachel got into a lot of trouble - more trouble than the rest of us - and at the time, I know I bought into what I heard the adults around me intimate, which was that Rachel was just plain naughty. Children in our family who were naughty got spanked; in my childhood brain steeped in the religious cult I wrote about here, I didn't see the issue with that. That is, until one day, while snooping around while mom wasn't home, I found photos of bruises on Rachel's body. The details are fuzzy, so there's no way for me to say how old I was or whether this was before or after my dad was gone. Hell, mom may have shown them to me after he was out of our lives. Memory is fucking weird like that; you think it's one thing and it was actually another, but both those things are just how each individual mapped their own representation of reality in their brain. 

Fun fact, my knowledge about the unreliability of memory to recall facts and data about one's own trauma history has been the mitochondria to my cell of gas-lighting myself! Yay for physiology and trauma responses!

Either way, what matters is that it wasn't a secret that Rachel was mistreated by my father, and that did not end until he was gone. Out of all of us, she was the most helpless. I do remember Christin sticking up for Rachel a few times when she felt dad was about to go overboard again, but each time, she was just dismissed for being disrespectful to authority. It hasn't always been easy to have compassion for myself or the other people involved, but knowing what I know now about trauma responses, it's less easy to pile on the blame, even for perpetrators. 

From where I stand, Rachel has it pretty good now! As the baby of the family, she doesn't get all the rules placed on her that we did when we were growing up. And! She gets individualized activity scheduling?? I was talking to my best friend who grew up with similar rules and also has younger sibling with Down Syndrome, and we firmly decided that our parents are just tired of parenting. Which, yeah, fair. And also, no fair!  Rachel graduated from an actual, brick and mortar high school; I didn't even do that! 

In all seriousness, I know Rachel is very well taken care of, and she and mom have a good thing going. Although, I honestly wonder who takes care of who more. During my weekend stay, I never had to make my bed or make my own breakfast. She even brought me tissues one night when I was processing through some shit. Without a word. But, that just made me sad in a whole different way. 

On the last day, I took Rachel to her weekly horse-riding lesson. Equine therapy is a wonderful intervention for all kinds of kiddos, as well as being good exercise. But as I was watching Rachel brush her horse, confidently lead her around the coral, and get my attention before trotting along the perimeter, I started getting this itchy feeling. And not because of the mosquitoes. Jealousy?! Where did you come from??

What kind of monster is jealous of their baby sister's simple joy of connecting with a sweet little pony? Oh right, it's this lady. It's the same feeling I wrote about here of being jealous of Christin and my mom's relationship. And like, fine, but boring. I'm supposed to be this enlightened, empowered young woman in a brave new world where I make the life that I want. Instead, there I was, leaning against the gate of the coral, internally whining about how unfair it is for my sweet baby sister to get riding lessons when I've always wanted them. 

As I've been processing these feelings, I've also been having some conversations with my wonderful, intelligent, expanse of a partner about practicing self-parenting and shadow work. So, I've been giving that a try. And my conversations with my inner child have gone something like this: 

Me to inner child - "hey there little buddy, I see you eyeing that crumb of a cookie over there." 

*holds out a fresh new cookie and a glass of milk as I inch forward"

Inner child to me - "......"

*snarls and lurches toward me, slapping both out of my hands then running away toward the crumb to devour it, but it somehow has disappeared into thin air*

Rinse and repeat. 

In their desperate search for crumbs of love and belonging, my inner child has often run wild, accidentally pressing buttons and pulling levers that created mass destruction for me. The good news is that my inner child is slowly becoming accustomed to being seen. They still snarl a little and may mutter unintelligible gibberish to themselves while continuously scrounging for crumbs. They have not yet been convinced that the crumbs have gone stale and even if they got one, that it would not slate their hunger. The unfortunate news is that the one holding the fresh new cookies has not always been kind to them and the trust hasn't been rebuilt yet. I have often deprived my inner child of simple pleasures that would have helped them grow and flourish. I have been complicit in the mistreatment they received from people in my life. No wonder that little gremlin hates my guts. 

Rachel loves her inner child, and that was at the heart of my jealousy. She is an inspiration in being kind and allowing oneself to enjoy the simple joys and pleasures in life. She doesn't give a shit what I'm wearing, how much I weigh, or what my hair looks like because she truly believes that I am beautiful. She doesn't care if I have a lot of money or get a bunch of likes on my posts; she cares that I'm happy and loved. She wants me to play piano for her to sing along to, to give her hugs and smiles, and to text her back when she sends me a photo of her doing one of her many activities. Rachel is a reminder of what is wonderful and meaningful. Without even meaning to, she pushes me to expand and explore myself more than she could ever know. 

Thank you so much for reading! You can go to DSSW website for information and resources for families who have children with Down Syndrome. I would love to hear your thoughts and connect with you! Comment and subscribe here on the blog! Follow and direct message me on Instagram @justoldgray and @freckledgiggles !