04 April, 2011

Happy Birthday Christina

I realized this morning that today is my baby sister's 10th birthday.

I haven't seen her since she was two.

This is the last picture I have with her.

I think we'd all agree that I don't casually toss around the word 'hate.'  Like most hateful words, I think it's a little stronger than is generally appropriate.  But today Christina kept drifting into my mind, and every time I had to make a conscious effort to not hate her mother.

This isn't the first time I've asked for strength to stop hating her.  See most of March 2006, or this extra-special entry from April of the same year for past examples. 

But unlike my fiery-hot rage of five years ago, this is different.  This is the quiet defeat of someone who has quite literally lost her family.  It's heart-break.  It's knowing that, in being the bigger person and not complaining to my dad about her back-stabbing and manipulation when I had the chance, I let her win.

This afternoon, I read a painfully beautiful account of how one of my favorite bloggers said goodbye to her dying father.  I cried for her, and then I found myself crying for me.  Honestly (and it's my own blog, so screw anyone who calls me selfish for this) I was jealous of her.  I was jealous that she had that kind of relationship with her dad.  And I was jealous that she was able to say goodbye.  I'm pretty sure that if my dad died tomorrow, I wouldn't be on the list of people who'd be notified.  Whenever I run into him, I find myself overwhelmingly grateful just to know that he's ok.  It's a pretty crappy way to go through life.

I don't know what Christina looks like now, how tall she is or whether her hair is still curly.  The last time I asked about her, Dad said she was on the honor roll.  Maybe she still is. I hope that she's happy, and that she turns out ok, despite living in Mother Gothel's alternate universe.

Happy birthday, baby sister.


mom said...

I can't believe she's 10! OMG!

Your post made me cry. We were created to live in families ... and it's so awful that things tend to not be family-ish. When you were a baby/toddler, you had a 45 record of Daddy's Little Girl ... Aunt Rose and I would literally cry because we never knew what it felt like to have an adoring father. And it tears me up to know that you have that firsthand knowledge too. There's a book called, "I had no father but God." I never read it ... but I love the title.

Janette said...
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wickedmess said...

You post made me cry, too. I'm sorry that you're separated from Christina. I hope that the two of you reconnect soon!