I have a family, but I don’t exactly have a tribe. The reasons are several and skewed to consign me to solitary. It’s gone on so long that I’m no longer hurt or sad. My life and times are content because my man is a wonderful partner and has my back.
My life as the stellar apple of my parents’ eyes, lasted four years – until the second child was born. I reveled in the attention my newly-wed parents showered on me. My baby book is full: first word, first sentence, etc. Lots of photos when I was the one and only. The others are jealous and I can understand though I can not undo.
From then on time was shared, which was okay except the time wasn’t shared evenly. The next two had developmental issues and my parents’ time was encumbered. I became the good soldier and carried on… separate and equal, yet not. The final child was the jolly child, pampered as is typical.
The reasons I can cite after much contemplation and thought… none of which are anyone’s fault. They just are and I accept my lot:
- the four, then six, then eight years of age separation, which fostered different interests among we sibs as well as needs.
- the odd architecture of our family’s successive rental homes: a single room, then a large one carved out of the remaining square feet upstairs. My siblings shared the large room while I occupied the single room and that’s just they way it was.
- I went to college the year my parents were finally able to buy a home… in which there was no bedroom for me at all.
- I married first and made my home fifty miles away with the lovable man above, not inclined to return to a nest that wasn’t mine.
- My husband and I moved to California, 2000 miles away from the frays as well as the comforts the others enjoyed.
So, Independence has been my lot and that’s okay. It suits me. As long as I have the loving man alongside. It’s worked well for 46 years. We are having a blast!
He is ‘the best man alive’ – always and forever – for me! That’s the best alchemy anyone can achieve.